C'Est La Vie
by Redhead Turk
Summary: Revamped! Turks are decimated to just three members, and Tseng decides to add a recruit. But before they even begin to realize, suspicious events begin to stir, sending them into desperate measures. Rated T for violence, language and sexuality. OC.
1. Prologue

Note: This is a re-worked version of my first fiction, C'Est La Vie. I will upload the original story on a separate website. Please request the link if you wish to read the original copy.

Many thanks goes to those who had read the first version and gave me feedback. My writing has improved dramatically since then. Hopefully this version runs better.

Note: I do NOT own Final Fantasy or any of its affiliated contents. I do own my original characters. Weapons are taken from real-life, and therefore is unorthodox in the FF gaming world.

Prologue

"A rookie, huh."

Tseng, the commander of the Investigation Sector of the Department of Administrative Affairs, better yet known as the Turks, sighed. The large desk was orderly and clean, telling just how careful the owner was. The files on the shelves were lined neatly, and everything was in place. The room was cosmos, and Tseng was the root of it.

In his file were the brief details of the woman. The photograph that was stapled onto the file showed a young woman, with raven hair framing her egg-shaped face. Her eyes were blue-grey, slanted, focused and alert; her nose was straight, her lips drawn in a stern line. Just from the facial features, one could judge her to be fair.

Arien, that was her name. She joined the Intelligence right after graduating from the military academy, and had accomplished quite a few assignments during her time there. Originally her commander, Darren Blake, was the next in line to join the Turks, but he had died in an explosion accident. Rumor had it that for her, Blake was a little more than a commander; some said that they were lovers. But whatever the rumors were, this woman – or a girl? – had survived, and moved on.

While Tseng was debating whether to admit her into the ranks or not, a door slammed open, and a blonde woman entered, crying. Tseng sighed again. He already knew what the cause of the woman's tears was. It was the same, every single time. The cause would make Elena cry, Elena would come into his office in tears, and Tseng would have to clean up after them. Mostly everyone left the Turks Jr. alone since she was not yet an official member, but sometimes the cause would take out his boredom on her.

The cause of all evil on this floor, the number one problem, the fastest among them. Reno. With flaming red hair and dancing blue eyes, he was the idol of the office girls in the building, the nuisance of the Intelligence (not only did he create a mess that required Class AA and Class A to come in and clean up the mess, he also had a bad habit of sleeping around with Intelligence officers and making them utterly useless the next day), and the reason for Tseng's ulcers. Tseng sighed yet again. He would have to rely on pain medication tonight, just like every other night.

He stood up, and walked toward the office door, and stuck his head out. "Reno!"

"Yo, whassup Boss?" The man – almost a boy – came out of his office and into his room. "Yo 'Laney."

"I don't care what you did, I don't want to know what you did, but you will apologize to Elena. Immediately."

Reno stared at his superior.

"That's a joke, right?"

"I am serious. Apologize immediately."

"Where's the proof that I did something?"

"Don't be foolish, Rude's not even here." Tseng glared at him, signaling that one more false move and Reno was in deep trouble. "Apologize, and do some work for once! Understood?"

He then ushered the two out of his office to regain some semblance of peace. The woman was calmly watching the incident from the papers.


	2. 1 First Impressions

ZakuReno: I always wanted to rework this. It had a potential, but some scenes were just so awkward to read (and sometimes embarrassing) that I was hesitating to do it. Well, now that I've started, I have to finish it :P. I guess Arien evolved just as my writing style evolved; she has a more solid personality in my head now, more mature and well, more grown-up.

Katreda: This is actually a rework of my first fanfiction novel ever written. Quite a few people liked Arien, so I hope you like her too. She can be a bit strong-headed, sometimes immature and has a few problems as our redhead will find out, but then again no one's perfect.

Chapter 1: First Impressions

"Who the HELL applied?"

Arien DeVir, age twenty-two, stood up with a loud noise, staring at her partner in disbelief. The stack of papers fell onto the floor, but so deep was her surprise that she barely noticed. Despite the flat loafers, she still stood tall for a woman; her grey suit with beige turtleneck managed to make her look even taller. Her ponytail swished as she stood up.

There were buxom office girls, willowy semi-execs, wild tomboys in the building, enough to make any man salivate. She was none of them. She could not afford to. It was rather difficult to be any of those types when one never knew what would happen after a simple telephone call. Sector slums were not the safest of places, and some people who lived there hated Shinra with passion it was almost holy making any affiliation with the said company rather dangerous when venturing out. Brawls were common, and the drunks didn't avoid you because you had chromosome XX instead of XY.

Being a field agent was not a glamorous job. It meant medium pay, running around almost all the time, reading boring papers for hours on end, then trying avoid getting killed by a stray bullet. Well, there were other complications as well, but all in all, the only reason she continued doing this job was because she could not bear to become an office girl. Her biggest bane was boredom, and she was very prone to it. Sitting at a desk all day, answering telephone and writing thank-you notes and letters to minor dignitaries for the Shinra executives sounded hellish to her.

"I have no idea." Zen replied serenely, unaware of the tsunami he had just caused within his partner.

"No! I refuse to go there!" Arien said hysterically. Zen Fletcher sighed. Arien was a good agent, obedient to her boss and clever, but when she said no, that was it. There was no changing her. But she had never defied an order before. No matter what it took, she always did it. That was Arien. And to defy the orders now…

"You can get court-martialed for that, you know."

"I don't care! What did I do to deserve the transfer?"

"It's a promotion, not a death sentence." Zen tried desperately to placate her. Unfortunately, it did not work.

"That's what you say! They're clearly trying to get rid of me! Tseng and Rude sound decent, but there's that bastard womanizer in that sector! There is no woman, I repeat, NO WOMAN who ended up decent when she crossed path with that dratted redhead! They either…"

"You know, I think they're just rumors…" Zen's defense went ignored.

"… end up dead, in his bed, or in permanent employment at the Honeybee Inn! I didn't put my life on the line to end up dead or in his bed, nor did I work this hard to have a permanent employment at the whore house! No! I refuse to go! Now get out!"

"I didn't decide this!" He had to shout to make sure he was heard.

Arien calmed down. Slowly. She sat down in her squeaky chair, covering her face with her hands. "I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I know it's not your fault. Do you think there's any way for me to avoid this?"

"Nope. They're the best of us, remember? No matter where you hide, they'll track you down."

"… Was Reno one of the underlings?"

"Er, no. He's the second-in-command, I believe."

"Crap." Arien groaned. "He tries to sheathe his sword into every woman he sees. " Despite her poetic phrasing, Zen knew just exactly what she meant. Reno was a womanizer, there was no question about it. Redheaded, sly, cool and sarcastic, everyone knew him - well, at least of him. He also had his pick of girls and took a different one home every night. Or that was what the rumors said. Nobody really knew the truth; while the redhead's sexual life was much up to discussion, the Turks were not outgoing as a group and tended to keep to themselves.

"You'll be fine. You always were, Arien."

"Yeah, well, I'm probably signing my own death sentence." Her tone was beyond miserable, and was now bordering despair. "I wonder why Chief didn't tell me directly, though."

"She knows you too well. She probably thought you'd go off the wall."

"That I did. I guess she knows everything."

"You've been working for her for two years. She doesn't know everything, but she has a pretty good grasp on what kind of a person you are. " He smiled. "Good luck, Agent DeVir of the Turks."

After Zen was gone, Arien sat, dazed. She could not believe it. Today she was an intelligence agent, next day it was goodbye to the floor. The Turks. They occasionally came up in the gossip, but their operations were completely in the dark. According to the rumor, they were drowning in gils, their members were the idols of the office girls, they were ruthless, and they were trouble. That was pretty much all she knew. Arien had met them a few times while she was going in to clean up the mess. She herself has had to help out on a few occasions, when the Turks called for back-up during particularly nasty gunfights. Owing to all that, the Turks were the heralds of trouble in Arien's mind.

There were a few acquaintances from Class D who had slept with Reno, the infamous redhead. He was THE troublemaker of the group. He had no respect for law, he was trigger-happy and tended to go postal, he slept with anyone who wore a skirt and he drank like a hose and smoked like a chimney. Or that was what they had said. She had always steered clear of him, wishing to miss the non-existent danger than walk straight into a live one. But according to the Class D girls, he was fun, he was sexy, and he was cool.

"Sure he's fun," she murmured angrily. It were they who had to go in and clean up, not them. If the Class AA had mucked up, they would end up in jail, in the hospital, or six feet under. Anyone who pushed them into that kind of situation was automatically viewed as the biggest problem on this side of the continent. Reno was the spearhead of the trouble. She absently picked at her cuticles as she tried to finish the report she was writing up. But she was too disturbed by the news to continue.

A few days later, a transfer order arrived and she officially became a member of the Investigation Sector of the Department of Administrative Affairs.

* * *

"Reno."

"Yo!" The redhead replied cheerfully. He was neglecting to write up yet again, and Tseng added his lack of sense of duty to another reason why this male was not the prime candidate to educate a rookie Turk. But did he have any other choice? There were only three official Turks on the squad, and well, Reno needed a severe lesson in responsibility pronto. He was hoping that this rookie would give him a demonstrative crash-course on that particular virtue. Because otherwise, Tseng feared for his stomach. Literally.

Arien DeVir's superior, the head of the Section AA and hence the entire Intelligence, had assured him that Arien was a stickler when it came to duties and responsibilities. From what he had heard, "anal-retentive" might have been more like it. Her desk was immaculate, files neatly ordered, pens and pencils sorted into sections. Everything was in order; the chair had been pushed in, exactly at the right angle with the desk. Even her letters were orderly, t's lined and i's dotted. He had seen her in the corridors, and had noted that her shirt was ironed and her shoes polished, her hair neatly brushed. Her nails, while filed down to within an inch of their existence - metaphorically speaking - were clean. Yes, this was the exact opposite of the redhead. He was almost sure that she would always turn the reports on time.

"You're going to have a new partner, starting Monday," Tseng informed him.

"What! ?" Reno exclaimed. "What the hell! ?"

"We have a new member on our squad. I need someone to educate that person on how this sector works. Rude's busy and so am I, so the task falls on you." Tseng gave him no moment to interject. "And this is a direct order, so a refusal will mean consequent actions. Do I make myself clear?"

"Um, yeah." Reno shifted his eyes a little. "Hey, who is the rookie?"

"Arien DeVir from Class AA of the Intelligence." Tseng handed him the file. "Read it, make sure you know about her relatively well by Monday." Then, before Reno could react, Tseng had turned and left.

Reno sat, thinking. Tseng had not known that Reno knew about Arien. She was notorious among the field agents, not because of her accomplishments - they were nothing compared to the legendary agents, although they were good - but because she really had a stick up her ass. Reno's friends from Class double A and Class A, if they could be called friends, all had said in unison that she was good - extremely good, some had added - anal-retentive, self-important, too serious, and during missions, bossy and quite scary. Bossy might have been because she was indeed the leader of the most of the operations assigned to her class, but anal-retentiveness was not a pleasing aspect. He also disliked her nickname, which was Gunslinger; he had a feeling she was trigger-happy. He was certainly not a chauvinist and welcomed a woman into the ranks, but he had an odd feeling that this woman would disagree with him almost constantly.

Which was probably why Tseng gave her to him. Not to educate per se, but to put a leash on him. That bastard. Reno grinned. If Tseng thought a woman was good enough of a leash around this redhead, well, he was wrong. Renaldo Miller would do as he would, woman or no woman... even if it meant a full-on war.


	3. 2: Transitions

ZakuReno: They're both trigger-happy (at least, I think that's how I described them). This comes from watching too many action movies. They really like to use their guns... but then again I think that's the point of those movies.

Katreda: I realized just how short chapter 1 was. This one is significantly longer. I hope you still like my character at the end of the chapter; she seems to be loved by few and hated by others.

* * *

2: Transitions

"Last day at the desk…"

Arien struggled with the box she was carrying, then turned at her former desk, forlorn. She then headed to the elevator. Unlike her usual attire, she was dressed today in a black button-down shirt and jeans. With her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back loosely, she looked a little sadder than usual. Or that was what Zen thought.

"Arien."

"Zen." She turned her body to see her former partner. "Last day here…"

"it's not like you've been banned from the floor." Zen consoled her. "Hey, wanna go out for drinks tonight?"

"Sounds great." She winked. "Let's invite others too, have a wild party."

After the brief conversation, she went six floors above. A new office awaited her. Her new ID card and her keys had already arrived; all she had left to do was lay out her new office, get the new uniform, and go home. She was supposed to start on her job the next day.

She slid the ID into the elevator panel and pressed 66. The elevator slid up the shaft noiselessly. The door opened with a ding. Carrying the box, she walked through the corridor, and opened the door to her new office.

The office looked empty. A desk was sitting in front of the window, and on it sat a desktop computer and a telephone. She closed the door carefully, and took note of her new surroundings. A door was fixed on both sides of the room, allowing easy access to her neighbors' offices. There were windows fixed on the doors. The carpet was burgundy and thick. Bookshelves lined the walls. It was quiet.

On the desk was her uniform, wrapped in cellophane. Tseng had probably put it there. Placing the box on the floor, she walked over to the desk, picked up her uniform. It was dark blue, almost black, with a tie of the same color and a white shirt.

New uniform. New floor. New room. For someone like her who did not like changes, it was not welcome. She looked around the room again, and noticed the door to the left. She walked over, peered into the neighboring office.

"Wow…"

The room was utter chaos. There were papers everywhere, an EMR had been abandoned under the cabinet, a magazine for a handgun, some weird magazine depicting naked people, an ashtray overflowing with butts. She scrunched up her nose. To have a neighbor like that could only be termed as unfortunate. She sincerely hoped that she would not have to work with the said person too often. That would make her life even more miserable than what it already was.

"How is it?"

"Who is… I'm sorry!" It was Tseng. She immediately saluted her superior. "I can't say, sir, I'm just moving in."

"I see." He looked around. "Your commanding officer will be coming in tomorrow. Until then, you are not required to report."

"Yes sir." She wanted to ask who her commanding officer was, but decided against it. There must be a reason for Tseng not to tell her. Arien was the type to not question unless required, so she let go of the nagging question, and decided to go home.

Never did she know that this will come back to her in full force, a day later…

* * *

Reno's morning does not start on a set time, because he does not wake up at a certain time. But it is a different story after he wakes up. He almost religiously follows the same routine, then goes to work.

He first wakes up. Then he crawls back into bed, and stays still for about five minutes. Then he sticks his head out from under the covers, and smokes a cigarette. And then he finally wakes up.

He changes. Changing is easy. He pulls on a shirt (he never undoes the buttons), then pulls on the slacks and wears the blazer. That is it. He snaps on the wristlet, to which he attaches the baton when he is on duty.

He wears the shoes. And that is how he leaves his apartment.

Few years before he had a few incidents in the morning in which some idiot had trapped a bomb, but these days those happenings did not occur. Hence, he had peaceful mornings. And so he thought that this morning would be just as peaceful and uneventful.

But he was wrong.

He got to work as usual, clocked in, and then sat in front of his desk. His room was just as chaotic as usual. To his right was Rude's office, to his left was supposed to be empty.

Reno doubted his vision for a second. The light was on in the room to the left. He stood up and walked to the door leading to the left office. He rubbed his eyes. The illusion remained.

Inside was a woman, working at a desk. On the shelves were a few files already. He panicked. Yesterday the room was empty; today the room was clearly occupied, and had been for some time.

This must be some ghost of a Turk long forgotten, probably died on duty, coming back to haunt her old office. Live human beings he could handle. Ghosts were another problem. He trembled. If it was a ghost… he darted out of his room and into Tseng's. "Boss! Boss!!"

"What." Tseng was at his desk, working as usual. At the desk facing toward the center of the room was Elena, reading a file. Apparently they had no problem with the ghost that was across the hall. Or did they not even realize it? Was it just him? Or did they not even care?

"There's a ghost in the next room!"

Tseng and Elena looked up at once. "Ghost?"

"Yeah! Ya know, the room next to me, the empty one? There's a chick…"

"Oh, that's no ghost." Tseng did not change his expression, but it was rather obvious that he was trying not to laugh. "She is a new recruit. She'll be directly under your command. Arien!"

The woman arrived right away. Reno looked at her feet. Yep, two. She was walking. That meant she was no spirit; he calmed down a little. As soon as he became composed, he began to observe the rookie.

She was pretty good looking, but then again, all Turks were. She was tall and slim, with long straight raven hair. Reno had dyed his hair red and cut it in the wildest style possible, but he happened to like hair that was untouched and straight, so this rookie's hair was attractive. Her face was egg-shaped, with slanted eyes and full mouth. Her lashes were long, and cast a shadow onto her cheeks.

"Reno! Are you listening? Reno!"

"Uh, yeah, what?" Reno started. The entire room was staring at him. Her eyes were blue-grey, he noticed.

"Thought not." Tseng faced the woman. "Are you certain? You will be under his direct command."

"Yes sir. The important thing here is his abilities, but his organizational skills." She said easily, with ease and no hesitation.

"I hope so." Tseng replied dubiously, then turned to Reno. "Arien DeVir, from the Intelligence. Starting today she will be your subordinate and your partner. There will be differences between the Intelligence and us on how things are done, so make sure you instruct her well. Understood?"

"Nice to meet you," she said with a slight incline of her head, but he did not miss her eyes. They said shit, my worst fears have been realized, and Reno was not pleased. He'd be damned if she thought of him as nothing more than a calamity to be avoided.

"Reno," he said, offering his hand.

She did not take it. "What should I call you?"

"Reno. I don't like the formal crap."

"Whatever you say." She was oddly distant. He suddenly recalled where he had seen her before; he had seen the special tactics squad go in after he had finished his mission, and she was the section leader of the squad. No wonder she was so distant. For her, he was a guy who landed her in difficult assignments and knee-deep shit.

She was probably a mix of Wutaian and some other race. Her skin tone, her eye color were clearly not Wutaian, and neither was her nose. But her eye shape, her hair, and the complexion was that of a Wutaian. It was an odd combination; dressed in the uniform, she looked as if she really belonged in some other attire, such as a floating gown.

"Reno, you had patrol today, correct?"

Reno tore his eyes off her. "Oh yeah… thanks for reminding, Boss."

Tseng ignored his lapse. He usually did. One did not survive with Reno minding about every lapse he committed. "Good. Take Arien with you. That is all."

With that, he returned to his files.

Reno left, Arien in tow. She had her hand in her armpit. He first thought she was scratching it, but then he noticed that she was adjusting something. A holster? Perhaps.

"So you were in the Intelligence, huh?" he asked, trying to make a conversation.

"Yes sir. Originally in Section C, but AA for the past two years." She was still adjusting her holster. Apparently she was a firearm-user, making it three in the ranks. There was a woman in Section AA who used firearms whose codename was Gunslinger; he guessed that she was the same person. She was notorious for being efficient, obedient, with almost 100% success rate with her assignments. She was also notorious for hating a certain redhead in the Investigation Sector. He felt a storm coming. He could almost smell it. This girl was going to make his life hell.

But Section Double A was impressive. The Intelligence was divided into five sections, with D being the industrial espionage, C being military spying, B computer hacking, A with tactics and weaponry, AA being the special force for top missions. Members of Section A and above were mostly men, with all having military experience, and not many could beat them in handling explosives covert missions. Reno very rarely had dealings with them, both in and out of public. In public they always came after he was done to clean up, and out… well, women in A and AA were usually serious, some trigger-happy and all disliking him greatly for bringing them more trouble than they cared for. Therefore, Reno generally was avoided by the women of that particular group.

He had seen a gunfight between two AA agents and a terrorist group. Sure, there were two agents but there were also six terrorists and still the agents took them down without a problem. That meant Arien was as good as they were, or perhaps better.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two this year." She pulled out her hand from her armpit, satisfied with the holster. "I joined the Intelligence when I was seventeen, so it's been five years."

"… You were Darren Blake's lackey, weren't you?"

If Reno intended to catch her emotionally off-guard with this question, he failed. "That's correct," she said without much other response. Does this mean that the Blake-DeVir couple rumor was untrue? Or is she just good at concealing her emotions?

"Fine. Anyway, here's how this floor works." He began to explain. "That's Rude's office. He's my partner. Well, was. Then that's my office, and you're next to me. The room next to the Chief's is the conference room, the room next to that is resources room. Opposite that is the copy room. Everything else is empty. Oh, uniform's issued so if there's anything, just go into the changing room on floor 65 and take it. All other equipment's billed to the Turks. Got it?"

"Yes sir." Her formalities were getting on his nerves.

"O…kay. Anything else? No." He answered his own question, looking at the clock on the wall and checking the time. "Right. We'll get the morning patrol out of the way. Can you drive?"

"I can, but I'm not very good at it." She replied honestly.

"I'll drive then. Arms?"

"Sig Sauer P226 and Colt M1911. I have Beretta M92 but it's not very weatherproof so it's a back-up. I usually use two."

Reno was surprised. They were all relatively large for a woman; to shoot it with one hand must be quite a weight on her wrist.

"Government, huh? Oh well. Let's go then. Today is… Sector Eight."

In the car Arien loaded her magazine; it seemed that she had spares on her belt, as she was feeling around her waist. She loaded cartridges into them, then returned them to her belt, loading one each into her pistols. Reno guessed that she would have knives on her forearms and her shins. She was armed, and armed to battle. But then again, Class AA usually got into trouble wherever they went, so there wasn't anything to be questioned about her choices. She seemed to be the type to be rather safe than sorry.

They descended to the slums of Sector Eight. Just as they had left the car and walked for a few yards, Reno's sixth sense told him that they were being followed. It was probably Tseng again; he usually sent some minute obstacle to test the rookie on a first patrol. Granted, when Reno had his first patrol something went very wrong and he had to fight two thugs that were twice his size. It was during that battle that he learned he can kill people with just a thumb.

Losing the tails was easy enough, but capturing the stalkers or killing them discreetly was another problem. He decided to let the rookie handle it. If she did well, kudos for her, if she died, well, too bad. He was not aware that Tseng wanted them back alive.

"Arien."

"Yes sir?"

"There are people tailing us. Three. Get rid of them."

"Yes sir. Do we keep them alive?"

"Erm… just one. Get rid of the two."

"Roger that, sir." She motioned Reno to go ahead, and resumed walking again. Her gait was leisurely, apparently carefree, but Reno could feel that she was alert, observant. She suddenly turned, and entered into an alley. Two men and a woman entered after her.

Bingo.

Reno backtracked. As soon as he entered the alley, he saw the flash of the Colt. Four sharp explosions reverberated off the walls, two from each gun. A parabellum wedged itself into the forehead of the man and the woman; an ACP crashed into the second man's knees, cleanly incapacitating him.

"Finished?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay, stop calling me sir." Reno rolled the dead man over with his toe. The man and the woman had their heads blown out.

"Yeah, you were Double A, alright." He checked the gunshot wound. "Parabellum 9mm and ACP .45, eh?"

Arien nodded.

"First time killing?"

"Yes sir."

Reno looked at the woman again. She had not changed a muscle on her face. Usually, a rookie showed more response: sadness, regret, victory. They usually showed it on their faces. This girl acted as if she had just finished washing the dishes. What was up with this lack of response?

"It's not like I regret. I knew I had to kill ever since I got the transfer order, and I'd rather get the initial shock over with now than during actual combat."

How unlovable.

"Besides, I can't get bothered about it all the time, can I? I haven't actually dealt the blow but I've provided enough information to warrant people dead. There isn't much difference between causing death and killing, is there?" She shrugged. "And I'm using a handgun, so unlike you, sir…"

"Reno."

"…unlike you, Reno, who uses a baton, I don't actually feel anything when I kill someone. I might have felt more if I delivered the killing blow, but I just pulled a trigger."

How extremely unlovable. But with this skill, she was reliable as a partner.

The patrol went on smoothly, and the two returned to the Headquarters without further ado. When they had arrived to Floor 66, Tseng was in the lobby, making coffee.

"How was it?" He asked.

"Fine," the two replied.


	4. 3: From One World to the Next

ZakuReno - Arien is cold and practical. She'd have to be, since she joined bunch of thugs (Turks, in my opinion, is nothing but a bunch of gang members with better names). I've never been in the Intelligence or the military so I don't really know how it works, but I've read about them and they require a sense of coldness, apparently. Arien and Reno are extremely unbalanced characters. She does evolve and become a little softer, however, as time goes on.

Katreda - They make each other's life difficult. Reno's slovenliness, his loud music and other habits drive Arien crazy; Arien's a stickler about order and deadlines, and that drives Reno crazy. On a superficial they are opposites. Arien's a prude; Reno's well, er, sexually liberated. Arien ties herself up with self-control like an armor; Reno rarely practices any. Reno's a bit more mature, though, compared to her. He is the second-in-command, after all, meaning that when Tseng was gone he must have been the leader.

Echo - Haha, welcome back! I think you're the only one who's steadfastly reviewed all my works. Arien's grown as I have, now that I've read over my works. There are quite a few additions to this version, as I felt I never really explained fully the relationship between our heroine and our hero(?). Footstep and Dum Spiro Spero presented Arien as a rounder character, but this one she fell flat. I've also cast Reno as slightly older; after watching ACC he just didn't seem to act in early 20's.

* * *

3: From One World to the Next

"How was the first day as a Turk?"

"Mmm, okay, I guess." Arien downed the last drops of Sex on the Beach. "I'm gonna need a bit time for adjustment."

It was eight o'clock, and Arien was celebrating her promotion with her friends at the bar. Celebration was the euphemism for getting hammered with excuse. A glass, then two was consumed, and everyone there was tipsy. She looked around; Zen, Shivvalan, Axil, Siva. They were all her coworkers from the Intelligence, and people she trusted.

Trust was rare in the Intelligence. One never knew who lied and who told the truth; she was glad to have found five friends at her workplace that she could trust with her life. They had gone through hell and back, all of them, watching behind each other's backs, being there and holding hands when the pain was close to unbearable. They had gone through a storm of bullets together, celebrating their victories, their first missions.

They had joined the Intelligence around the same time, gone through the mako treatment around the same time. The agony was nearly unbearable, but it was nice to know that there were others who understood the pain of it. It wasn't the good times but the bad that made a team, Arien mused. In a world where treachery was no news and people silently disappeared in the middle of the night, one needed a buddy to watch out for your back. Arien absently rubbed her shoulder, where until just recently an IV line was put in for the second round of mako treatment. It was a necessary step to join the Investigation Sector, they had said. Did she really expect the Turks to have that kind of physical abilities without a little help? Of course not. But she had noticed that her eyes now had a deeper shade of blue.

Her eyes were one of the small changes that occurred to her, as well as everyone else, who had received that kind of treatment. She thought it was more of a mutation. The silicate transformation of the proteins that comprised the body varied according to the DNA of the individual and how much they had received, but the result was the same. At 10 percent, the eyes turned blue; 40 percent, the healing time was cut in half; 75 percent, you were sterile; above 90 percent... well, those kinds of people were very few, and they were all in SOLDIER Class 1st.

Arien knew she had reached 40 at least, since that was the cut-off for the Intelligence; 60 was for the Investigation Sector, 80 for SOLDIER Class 1st. This meant that at least 60 percent of her body protein was no longer carbon-based but silicon. The outlook was no different, but everything subtly changed. With more treatment, more physical abilities: sharper vision, sharper hearing, sharper sense of smell, with increased reflexes and dexterity, not to mention the muscular force that could be exerted. Healing time decreased dramatically, and aging was slowed down at 40 percent, stopped at 60. Something about the synthesis of mako-induced strands of chromosomes led to decreased attrition of the telomeres, sometimes to a complete stop.

This kind of genome manipulation was very discomforting for Arien. She disliked the idea of the non-aging aspect; it was unnatural, and she knew there would be some payback for it. Additionally, sometimes these treatments gave people extra-acute sensory organs; for example, Rude's hearing was so sharp that he could hear things approximately 5 decibels in loudness from about twenty yards away. Reno's nose was so sensitive that he could distinguish 20 fragrances at once. And for herself... well, her vision was good to begin with after the mako treatment, qualifying her as the resident sniper in the Intelligence back when she was Class A, but with the second round of treatment, her eyes had adapted to magnify a prick of light into what could be perceived as broad daylight. Sure, this sounded nice, but the headaches that sudden bursts of light and or continued use of this nightvision - that was it was termed - were so excruciating they made her want to crack her head open. Acute sensitivity was useful, but it was a double-edged sword. She felt bad for the other two Turks; Reno apparently often got severe headaches from synthetic fragrances and were on medication; Rude wore something in his ear to make the "noise" more bearable. Arien generally wore contact lenses to adjust her vision, but it still did not remedy completely.

Arien had asked if she was sterile, after the treatment. But Hojo, that idiotic bastard, mumbled something about how the world didn't need any more mutants running around. She desperately wanted to point out that his TEAM was the ones who created the said freaks, but kept her mouth shut. Hojo creeped her out.

The bar was small and cozy. The interior was quiet with soft colors, and the food there was excellent. The bar was run by a master and his friend, along with the bartender who knew them so well he knew exactly which drink to serve to whom. The bar, so small that it was easier to miss than not, was the favourite hangout of the Class Double A. They had celebrated everything there, from birthdays to engagements to successful missions. The prices were a little on the high side, but because it offered privacy and quietness, it was worth it. Or so everybody thought. With relatively larger paychecks than the average in the building, the Intelligence officers could afford such luxuries. During work hours they wore non-descriptive clothes that had no labels, but outside work they regularly indulged in brand labels. Arien was not very fashion-conscious - she wasn't particular about the labels - but she did indulge in body care and whatever struck her fancy. Because their field was often seedy, they tended to head for clean, expensive places outside work.

"Another Sex, Arien?" Mev, the bartender asked as she put down the glass.

"Nah. I want something sweet and thick…"

"Give her buttery nipple!" Axil yelled. He was more than half drunk, having downed five shots of sambucca. Just then, the door opened.

All of Class AA looked at the intruder, some with alarm, some with interest, and some with discontent. An intruder meant a possible attack and a possible enemy, and that automatically put the spies on alert.

"Hey hey! How's it goin', Mev?"

It was Reno and Rude. Arien scowled. She was the kind of a person who was extremely territorial, and disliked intruders in her area. Reno and Rude were nothing but intruders into her favorite territory.

"Isn't that Reno of the Turks?"

"There's Rude too!"

Arien's scowl deepened. Of course, they had to be excited with their heroes' arrival. Reno and Rude, the two aces of the Investigation Sector. Arien decided to not notice them, hoping that if she didn't acknowledge their existence in her territory, they might poof and disappear.

They didn't.

Seeing the small crowd at the bar counter, the two sat at a table by the window. Mev went over, took orders, and returned behind the counter. Axil poked Arien in the ribs.

"What?"

"Don't you need to go say hi?" He asked.

"I clocked out at five. I'm off duty." She shrugged. "I like this buttery nipple. Can I have another one?"

* * *

Reno was secretly surprised. He would have never guessed that others came to this little bar. But it looked like this was a favorite hangout of the Class Double A. They were lively, happy, carefree and well… young, all around. Then he reminded himself that some of those people were the same age as him, or older. They were all dressed well, a rather stark difference from what he had seen six floors below; at the headquarters they all wore drab, indistinct clothes. But here, he could see a few watches that clearly cost what an average man in the slums might make in a month; the shoes they wore were clearly of good material.

In the center was the rookie, apparently having fun and ignoring him like he didn't exist. Or perhaps she was too drunk to notice. The crowd must be her friends, celebrating her promotion and planning to get hammered. He was not pleased to notice a young man next to her, attentive to her as ever. The man – or a boy – was blond, with a congenial, open face that showed he had nothing to hide. Was he her friend? Or her boyfriend? Reno had no idea. He was dressed in what appeared to be label jeans and a burgundy shirt. Reno's eyes were trained to identify labels; they often became good markers to place the targets in social stratus. It happened that he had seen the same shirt hanging in one of the upper-scale shopping centers, something like Emilio Lucci. He secretly wondered if the Intelligence officers were getting paid more; he had forgotten that with the price he had paid for his car, he could have bought a dozen mid-priced cars. Or that his apartment was in one of the upper-scale towers in Midgar, above the plate. Or that he regularly drank booze that cost over ten grand gil.

"Hey Mev," he motioned over the bartender.

"Yes sir?"

"You know the chick with long hair, over there?"

"Arien?" Mev pointed to her, who was holding the glass and talking.

"Yeah. Send a drink over for her. Whatever she likes the best." He handed over two 1000 gil notes. "That should cover it, right?"

"Of course." Mev retreated to his place. Reno watched, as he downed his Scotch straight-up, as Mev tapped Arien on the shoulder and handed over a drink, pointing to Reno.

Arien looked at him. Her left corner of the lip curved upwards. She winked, and raised the new glass.

He raised his own in reply.

* * *

Days went on; life went back on track for everyone. Reno learned to cope with his new and often fussy neighbor; Arien never meddled with his affair, but she did file complaints when he played music too loudly, or was not there in time for assignments. But otherwise, any contact between them was kept to the bare minimum.

Arien continued to live her life, the only difference being where she worked and consequently, her work hours. She came in at eight in the morning, took lunch at one if it was possible, and went home at five unless there was overtime to be done. She obeyed commands without a word, turned her paperwork in on time.

It was with consternation that Arien had found out the secret behind her relocation of abode. Third evening, on the way home, she was walking to the side entrance of the building when she saw Reno walking toward the same direction. Taken back, she did a double take, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. Then she realized that it was rather difficult even for her imagination to fabricate that kind of red.

"Whoa!" Reno gestured dramatically. "You ain't stalking me, are ya?"

Arien ignored his comment and got into the building. She decided to ignore this sheer dumb luck, but it was hard to ignore the nagging voice in her head. So she went through the personnel profiles on the database when she got to her apartment - the complete database was accessible from any remote server to her, since anyone who worked above floor sixty-two was granted access upon logging into one's account - on her laptop, unaware that Reno was doing exactly the same on her. She could not access the complete database before, as she was on floor sixty.

Apparently, Reno's full name was Renaldo Miller. She had never even considered Reno having any other name apart from Reno. He was twenty-five, grew up in the Midgar slums, and yes, he lived in her building. Nine floors down.

Arien closed the window with a frown. Tseng had found the apartment for her, actually ordered her to move, since it was closer to the headquarters. She could only guess, but she guessed she was not too far off the mark when she surmised that Tseng had placed her in that apartment on purpose, with motives that clearly were not pure. She had a feeling Tseng wanted her to be Reno's keeper.

"No thank you…"

Arien sighed, then decided to forget about it. Forgetting things were easier than trying to think up of an answer when there was insufficient data available.

The personnel files were interesting, however. She had checked hers; it was reported that her personality was type A, dedicated, but was not obedient to those she deemed unworthy. Logical thinker and introverted, heavily reliant on orderliness was their judgment on her personality assessment. That must have come from the personality sorter survey she had taken when she had joined the company. Her preferred weapons were registered as handguns, listing a few models she had used before. They had even noted her favorite subject back in her schooldays: she did not recall giving the information, but they had it right, since they had listed it as Physics.

Tseng was also type A, but was apparently more obedient, with a sense of justice instilled in him. He was also introverted, logical thinker, and reliant on orderliness, although as not heavily as her. His favorite subject was apparently social science. Arien was surprised at Tseng having sense of justice; she thought the prerequisite for joining the sector was an appalling lack of morals. Tseng was in the weapon development department before joining the Turks. Hmm.

Rude came from the explosives disposal unit, a unit within the SOLDIER; he fought without weapons. He was an extreme introvert, seemed balanced on his judgment criteria as he had fifty-fifty on logical thinking and emotional perception, and also seemed balanced on orderliness and disorder scale. So far, Rude seemed to be the most balanced out of all. His favorite subject was... literature. That struck her as extremely odd. She did not think Rude to be empathic; she had tagged him as more of a science type, since it allowed no space for emotional input. Apparently not.

Reno's file was the most interesting. He was literally picked off the streets, apparently; that explained why he had joined at such a young age. His weapons were a stun baton but also a handgun if it was available. He was extroverted, no information on his judgment criteria (which did not surprise her, as she suspected that he had no train of thought, just semblance of thoughts zipping around on random tracks), and had very low reliance on orderliness. He did, however, have an amazing score on intuition; it was skyrocketing through the roof. His favorite subject, surprisingly, was not physical education, but mathematics. How did that work? ! This boggled her mind. He also scored very low on moral decision-making section of the survey. Big surprise there. Nobody with a functioning conscience killed an innocent bystander to get to the bad guy behind the said victim.

Elena was balanced between extroversion and introversion, was relatively reliant on orderliness but not as heavily as Tseng, and was slightly reliant on emotions for judgment rather than thought. She was in urban planning for a year before becoming a Turk trainee. The psychologists had noted that while Elena was obedient and very hard-working, she had a tendency to let her mouth slip.

After she had looked through the files, she shut down the laptop, thinking. It was rather natural for anyone working with or in the Intelligence to be heavily reliant on orderliness; after all, information was what they dealt with, and information which could not be relayed efficiently or could not be found was just about as good as no information at all. That could easily be instilled in an individual; intuition, however, was another problem. It was rather obvious that Reno had been recruited because he was street-smart and knew people and places, but how did he have such high intuition?

She sighed, and went to bed. She was still not as hale as she would have liked to be; it took time to adjust to her adjusted abilities, and she was tired after the first day. However Reno had come to his intuitions, she did not have it, and because she did not know how to increase one's intuition, there was no point in wondering how. She would just have to do it her way, deducing from the given evidences.

There were always fortune's favorites in every kind of career. She was not one of them.


	5. 4: Sunshine Waltz in Costa del Sol

Sorry for the delayed chapter. I had the worst toothache of my life and was in agony for the past week (I did enjoy watching a Lipstick Jungle marathon, though).

Zakureno - I may should have labeled this under romance. I may also should have... ah shuck it. Anyway, I'm glad you like it so far. I usually listen to music while I write, so they're quite often influenced by what I'm listening to (if you want the track listing, I can give them to you as soon as I get my website up and running). The bar scene was influenced by Fergie (Label or Love) and Black Mighty Orchestra (Groove to the Sky). The Turks seem to be party-hardy people after work hours, and it would make sense for the Intelligence to hang out at the same place.

Katreda - I'm in biological sciences, so a little explanation wasn't hard to come up with :). The attrition of telomeres is one of the reasons considered to be the culprit for aging (time would be the best explanation, but we haven't gotten around to stopping it yet). I also wondered why the people from FFVII didn't age. Well, some people obviously have (Tifa), but the Shinra people never age. So I thought up of a little explanation. How do you like it so far? I remember you commenting that you'd see how it go since you usually aren't an OC fan, and I'd love for your input.

Echo - You flatter me, and if you kept inflating my ego I may have to throw my hats out :P. Sorry I'm late, I was distracted by a toothache (and a TV show). I have about 10 more chapters written out, but I haven't gotten into the game plot yet, so this will be longer than the original. The original is awkward in a lot of places (I was sixteen when I wrote it)! I'm hoping the characters are little more rounded this time; the side characters rather fell flat last time some conversations were very unnatural. Let me know what you think.

The drink "Sophisticat" is actually a Cosmopolitan. I saw a perfume that advertised its fragrance as "Strawberry and Cosmopolitan"... and we'll see how I think about that.

Chapter 4 - Sunshine Waltz in Costa del Sol

"They've set this year's training site," Tseng said.

Reno groaned; Elena made a face. Rude was expressionless, but then again he was always expressionless and so Arien had no idea how he reacted. It was to be expected that people eschewed training camps, but she wondered why these two had shown such emotional reactions. She had training camps at the Intelligence, and while it was not fun, it wasn't… unpleasant.

"Where is it, sir?" She asked, since no one offered to speak.

"Costa del Sol. We leave tomorrow morning. Meet here at 0900 hours sharp. We will immediately begin the training so come in moveable attire. The duration is ten days. It'll be rigorous, so be ready."

"NINE O'CLOCK?" Reno yelled. "I can't wake up that early, yo!"

"Maybe you can if you didn't stay up so late," Elena commented. While this made sense to everybody, Reno refused to bow down to such common sense.

"I have work, unlike you! I can't clock out at five!"

"BE QUIET!" Tseng shouted. "Reno, if you are not present at nine o'clock sharp tomorrow morning, I will personally head over and end to your reason of your late nights."

The Turks looked at each other. Nobody really understood what it meant to end Reno's reason of late nights, but they all understood that it would be accompanied by momentous amount of pain.

"Er, why are you so reluctant to go, sir?" Arien asked right away as soon as they left the conference room. "Granted, training is never pleasant but is it something to groan about?"

"No good comes out of that shit," Reno replied.

"… What is that supposed to mean?"

"This training's goal is to nurture teamwork and team trust, but for some reason injuries are abound," Elena explained.

"Yeah! Last year 'Laney dropped me on the head! What if I got brain damage?!"

"Would anybody notice the difference if you got brain damage?"

"Shut the hell up, you chocobo head!"

Arien decided not to notice the recurring fight. If it could be said that something only produced misery all around, it was this. Getting involved in this fight brought no benefit and only harm, and the best course of action was to leave the scene silently without getting noticed, then feigning ignorance when asked for judgment and or evidence. She quietly returned to her office, then shut the door. There was a new pile for her to go through and there were holds on calls on line one and two. Being elevated from a lowly intelligence officer to that of an executive, Arien thought belatedly, was not a pleasant change. Not if it increased her work by double. She kicked off her pair of heels; apparently it was inappropriate for women to walk around in flat shoes within offices. Or that was what Heidegger had said. So she had gone into her wardrobe to pull out the shoeboxes that she had forgone for such a long time. This led to restocking her nylons. And foot insoles. Why Reno was allowed to wear tan lace-up boots while Arien and Elena were subjugated to heels was anyone's guess. The women were now keeping flat shoes to wear while on missions, since heels could be heard from miles away. Arien was secretly fearing that the next order would be to wear mini-skirts. She was NOT going to change every time she went out on mission, and she was NOT going to run around Midgar slumsin a mini-skirt, chasing after a drunk witness. No way.

If they were leaving tomorrow that means all papers due immediately had to be turned in today. She sighed again, looking at the stack, then sipped the now cold coffee. The phone trilled; she waved her arms wildly for a moment trying to locate the device, then grabbed her phone. "DeVir speaking… oh yes, Vice President. Wait, what?"

"Reno still has not turned it in, and I need it by the next hour!" Rufus was barking into the phone. "DeVir! Are you listening?"

"Yes. Of course. I'll have that ready in an hour."

Reno sat up when he heard the door slam so forcefully the frame rattled. There was Arien, all 5'9" + 3 inches of her, hands on hips and looking very cross.

"Uh, did I do something?"

"No, you didn't. And therefore I have to take care of it." She snapped. "The report for the scouting. From two weeks ago. Rufus needs it by next hour, and since I went with you, I get to do it instead. Instead of your ass, Rufus got mine instead!"

"What?"

"THAT REPORT!" Arien shouted. "YOU KNOW, WHEN WE WENT TO SECTOR FOUR! It's not like I don't already have five hundred files to go through by tonight. I was kind of hoping that I'll get an early night tonight since I need to pack then get good night's sleep, but I guess not. All. Thanks. To you." She looked thoroughly angry. "If you think you're training me by just dumping your work on my head, then you have the entire notion wrong."

With that, she was gone in a flutter of papers that fell on the floor and a very loud bang.

Reno pursed his lips, thinking. Then he picked up the phone, dialed 613. It rang twice, then was picked up.

"What is it, Reno. Be quick about it, I'm doing your report."

"I'm gonna do it."

"What?"

"I'm gonna do it. I'll turn it in by the next hour."

"Uh huh. And what's it next? Rufus coming down in a pink tutu?"

"I'm serious. Although…"

"Though what."

"It'd help if you sent me what you did so far."

"Done. But send it in an hour or Rufus's gonna have _my_ ass." Fifteen seconds later, the PC trilled "you have mail" in its phony, synthetic voice.

* * *

The next morning, Reno was woken up – rather rudely – at eight thirty by the phone. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he picked up the receiver. "Helluh?"

"Not up. Thought so." It was Arien. "I'm not going to be held responsible for any damage caused by the Chief if you're not there by nine, sir."

"… Shit!" The luggage was not packed. He came home and went straight to bed! He started panicking. As if she had guessed it, Arien said, "Do you want me to help? You'd have to do something in return for me, of course."

Reno would have said yes to her offer if she had asked for a Hope Diamond in return. "Yeah okay. What do ya want?"

"Can you give me a ride to the headquarters?"

That was nothing to Reno. They would start at the same building and end at the same building anyway. "Sure thing, babe. "

"I'll come down right away so keep your front door unlocked."

Reno looked around the room. It was tidy in his opinion, but no way was it clean. He was rather glad that it wasn't in the mess state. She was still being fished; any false movement and the fish would splash and swim away. He pulled out a duffel bag from the wardrobe, looking at the clock. Twenty more minutes until Tseng's judgment. Even if it only took five minutes to get changed, he was certain he would have faced Tseng's painful consequence had Arien not offered. He unlocked the front door, then returned to the bedroom.

Arien came right away. She wore a jersey and a white T shirt; her hair was in a ponytail. A duffel bag was in her hand. She said nothing as she came in, but just ordered him to continue changing, and to tell her where his clothes were.

"I think… in that closet." Reno pointed as he pulled on a T shirt.

"Please take care of underwear yourself." She said as she opened the wardrobe. Reno decided to continue changing in the bathroom. Just as he headed there, Arien called out "and if you're going to the bathroom, bring stuff you need from there!".

Changing itself did not take long; when he came out, Arien was folding a pair of jeans and throwing it into the bag. "There should be enough clothes to get through for ten days," she said, as she tossed in a black T shirt. "You can buy things you need over there, I'd think."

"Thanks." He threw in his underwear, then zipped the bag up. "We've still got ten minutes. Guess we'll make it."

They threw in their luggage, and left the building. Reno speeded so much that Arien started to fear for her safety. He turned at corners at a speed that most normal human beings thought impossible, went between the cars without slowing down, crossed the streets when it was almost turning red. When they had reached the headquarters, Arien was blue and carsick. But they had no time to get sick; they had to grab their bags and go. Waiting for the elevator was a stress inducer as they raced time, and Reno stamped his foot impatiently. When they ran into the conference room, the clock had just struck nine.

"We made it!" Arien cried. Reno came running in behind her, and crashed right into her. They both toppled over, and Arien smashed her soulder into the conference room table.

"Ouch!" They both cried.

"That's the first time Reno was on time." Tseng said, looking at his watch. "Well. There are two choppers; Rude, Elena and I will go in one of them, Reno and Arien in the other. Let's go."

The helipad was on the top of the building. The wind blew harshly to the five of them, battering their bodies and playing with their hair. They climbed into the helicopters; as soon as they were seated and belted, they took off. Midgar grew smaller as the helicopters soared higher.

It was not far to Costa del Sol, and within a few hours they arrived at their destination. The pilot asked them if they were ready.

"Huh?"

"Put on the gloves." Reno threw a pair. Arien obeyed the command, still not sure of what was going on.

"Grab your stuff. Let's go."

The helicopter threw down black ropes; Arien and Reno leaned out from the exits, and took hold of the ropes. One hand on the rope, another holding the duffel bag, they slid down onto the sandy floor. Reno managed to land on his feet, but Arien fell as she felt the impact on the ground and bruised her left knee.

"You okay, rookie?" He offered his hand, but Arien stood up by herself and dusted off the gravel. Elena, Rude and Tseng had already arrived.

"Everyone here?" Tseng checked the head count. "Okay. Let's start."

Reno had such a hopeless expression on his face that the rest of them had to try their best not to laugh out loud. "Err, Chief? Can we take a break?"

"What you want to say is, 'May I take a break? I want to hop into the nearest bar and not come out for five hours.' Of course not. Besides, training has already begun. First exercise, get off this cliff."

"Ain't that easy? You just gotta jump o… whoa!" Reno shouted. Tseng had pushed him. Elena was laughing, Arien was struggling not to laugh out loud, even Rude was smiling. Tseng sighed. It was rather obvious that it would be the longest 10 days of the year.

* * *

In the blazing sun the five sprinted by the coast. Long legs flexed and pumped, and the hair danced in the wind. Sweat ran down healthy bodies, decorating the skin with glistening beads of moisture. It was Day 4, and there was one thing everybody could agree on (and possibly the only thing): This camp did nothing to raise team spirit, whatever that was.

Running as an activity was the same between everybody but everyone differed in speed and how they ran. Tseng listened to music while he covered distances, silent and focused. Elena ran at a moderate pace, Rude a little slower, but the two were constant runners and were covering distances steadily. Reno was supposed to be the fastest and hence finished first, but he happened to be playing mischief on everyone but Tseng and refused to run seriously, making him about the same speed as Tseng. Arien was sprinting. She power-walked when she got tired, then began running again when she regained her breath, making her the perfect target for the redhead.

Their quota was six miles, on a five minute mile. Tseng finished first; he ripped off the headphones, tossed his T-shirt and his shoes and his mp3 player on top of his clothes, then dived into the water. It was ten in the morning and the sun was up in full flare, making the area a sauna.

Next was Reno; he was running behind, making faces at Elena. He crossed the goal line with a peace sign, then ran to the waters while tugging his shirt off. He crashed into the water headfirst. Arien came in third; she took off her shorts and her shirt, tossed them into the sand, wrapped her mp3 player in a plastic case, then entered the water without heed. It was far too hot to debate the appropriateness of swimming in the morning. Elena and Rude finished at the same time. Five minutes later, they were all in water.

Rude was swimming in the deeper end; Tseng and Elena were swimming together, away from the coast, leaving Arien to be the victim of the day. The day before was Elena; it was Reno's habit to select one female and pick on her, which included taking her feet from under her resulting in her plummeting into the water, then snapping her straps as soon as she broke the surface of the water, sputtering. Arien had had enough; she delegated the role of the victim to Rude, and fled the scene. Rude sighed as he saw the redheaded terror approach his way. They were just like first graders.

After a swim, they had breakfast and then the actual training began. They did not necessarily require any physical exertion, and were simple enough to do, such as relying on the partner's directions to get through a roped maze blindfolded, or going through the shooting course. The problem was, even the simplest things could become incidents and even a debacle with minute mistakes.

Today was going through the shooting course as a duo. Each member had a respectable skill as a fighter by themselves, but it was another problem to move in groups. The course was just a regular one, filled with obstacles and moving targets; any one of them should have had no trouble getting through. The day before it was the girls versus the boys, and the girls won an easy win. Today it was the rookie and veteran combination. Predictably, Elena was with Rude, Arien with Reno, and it was working less than what Tseng had hoped.

"Reno Arien Team! Standby! Ready!" Tseng blew the whistle. The two began to run, Arien with her Sig Sauer, Reno with his stun baton. They ran over the broken chairs and upturned tables, rubble and chunks of concrete. All in all, they were supposed to be good at this. Arien was tall, giving her long legs and therefore an easier jump, and Reno was lighter than Rude and therefore would have been better suited to jumping across. Full score should have been an easy mark for them. But…

"Left!" Reno shouted. Arien went to her left; unfortunately, that was Reno's right. They crashed into each other head on. Just as they crashed, a new target appeared with a creak, and the two responded without even thinking. Which meant that Arien would shoot, and Reno would swing his baton with all his might. His arm hit Arien's head squarely, and Arien nearly made a new hole in his arm.

"Stop!" Tseng shouted. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Tseng's query went ignored.

"I told you to go left!"

"That's what I did! You didn't say WHOSE left! That's your damn fault!"

"You usually go with the sayer's left, you dumbass!"

"What's that even supposed to mean? You can't even speak correctly! Who's the dumbass now?"

"SHUT UP!" Tseng screamed, finally reaching the end of his patience. "You two! Get off the course! Next, Rude and Elena!"

Elena and Arien headed over to the shoot-out range after the team training. Rude and Reno, who had already finished their combat training, decided to sit and watch.

"Hey, wanna bet?"

"…"

"Alrighty then! 500 gil!" Reno shouted. "Hey Arien! Make sure you win, there's half a grand on ya!"

"Wha! ?" She turned; she had goggles on and earplugs, and she took one out. "Gimme half!"

"I'll buy you lunch!"

"Fine!" She stuffed her earplugs back in her ears, and got into her place.

"Standby! Ready!" Tseng blew the whistle. The two women began to run, carrying their assault rifles. Kneeling behind an overturned post, they shot at the target, then resumed their running. Another shot, then another, then they tossed the rifles away and pulled out their handguns; Elena was using Glock 22, Arien Sig Sauer P226. They fired shots into the metal sheet cut into a humanoid shape, then changed their magazines and emptied their clips into the last target: a man painted on a cardboard.

Tseng walked over to the last target range. "Safety! Holster!" He called out, then observed the last targets with a critical eye. "Elena, you missed two shots. Arien's fine."

"Oh yeah! I win!" Reno danced in his chair. Arien, who pulled out the earplugs and walked over, narrowed her eyes.

"I worked as a sniper when I was in Class A. Of course I'll hit it. If I couldn't, I'd be dead by now!"

Yet despite such occurrences, the training was enjoyable in a way. It was perhaps because Reno was always the devil-may-care as he was, or perhaps it was because Arien had learned that the Turks were, after all, human beings with just superb combat skills. Every other night or so, The Turks would get out into the town after supper.

Lunch was a cheerful affair. Arien and Reno headed to lunch first, since they were finished before Rude and Elena. They took shower then met at the lobby before heading out for lunch; that, and Costa del Sol's restaurants usually catered predominantly to groups, especially couples.

"Hey, you dressed like a girl for once," Reno commented when Arien came down.

"Thanks," she replied dryly. She had a large pink flower just above her ear, and was wearing a pink tank top. She wore a pair of scuffed-looking jeans and a pink pair of mid-heeled sandals. Her lips were glossed. "Blame it on my mother, she believed that a woman should dress nicely when going out with a man."

"She was a smart woman."

The restaurant was below the lodge; the lodge itself was built on a high rise, overlooking the beach. Reno and Arien cruised down the spiraling path down to the beach level on a motorcycle, Reno in the front and Arien in the back. He was acutely aware of her body close to his, but she seemed not to realize the proximity. Hair trailed behind them; sun shone upon them brightly. Lunch was simple and cheerful; they had kept a large table and waited for the other three to arrive before ordering.

After lunch they had wandered around the town for a few hours. The girls looked around the stalls, while the men walked through the streets, generally checking what was going on.

"Hey, this says 'Sophisticat'." Elena shook a bottle under Arien's nose. She looked curiously.

"I like drinking Sophisticats. I don't want to smell like one." Reno sauntered over, took a look at the bottle.

"Ya know, this might be a good cover for being drunk without actually being drunk."

"I can just dump gin on my head. That's what drunks generally do anyway."

After a stroll, they returned to the lodge to continue the exercises. Night fell quite slowly in Costa del Sol around this time of the year, and so the five were watching the sunset as they ate dinner.

"Where shall we go tonight?" Elena asked as she ate her dessert. The men were drinking coffee and smoking, but the women were happily consuming confectionaries and sweets. Elena was eating a fruit platter, and Arien was eating a cup of gelato in bliss.

"Oh yeah, heard there's a new club opening tonight. Free drinks." Reno piped up.

"Can we get a booth? Drinking at the counter generally generates unrest and anxiety."

"Arien, English! How many times do I gotta tell you?"

Everyone ignored him. "Wouldn't you need to be on the VIP list to get a booth on the opening night?" Tseng asked a reasonable question.

"Ha! Smart me!" Reno pulled out a card from his back pocket. "Got the VIP invite already."

"... Wait a minute. How did you get this?" Arien stopped her spoon. "Did you know about the club opening before we left?"

"Nope."

"Then how?"

"Well, I winked at the girl and…"

"Oh, okay. You wheedled her." Arien resumed her eating. "What do you think, Boss?"

Tseng looked at his subordinates. "I generally do not like clubs, but I guess we can go," he said slowly. Everyone grinned. Free drinks were an offer they just could not pass up. Turks were generally very tolerant with alcohol, and they generally required a fair amount to even get tipsy. Therefore, drinking from one's own funds racked up a large bill that, while not unpayable, was rather unpleasant to pay. Why pay when it was available for free?

"Rude?"

"Rude'll go anywhere for free drinks," Reno replied for the silent man. Nobody objected with that statement. If Reno drank like a hose, Rude drank like a vacuum. Innocent onlookers would have thought that Rude did not drink a lot because it was rare to find him hammered, but the Turks were well aware of the fact that Rude drank almost as twice as much as his redheaded partner.

"Elena?"

"Fine with me."

"Then it's decided." Reno stood up. "Heard there's a pretty big dance floor too, so dress nice girlies."

"That's your objective, isn't it!" cried the two "girlies".

"Then what? Whatcha gonna do?" Reno winked. "See ya at ten."

After dinner the members returned to their own rooms, but they reconvened at the lobby at ten sharp. Elena was dressed in a large floral sleeveless dress; the large red flowers on white made Elena look coquettish and feminine. Rude was dressed in a brown T shirt and jeans; Tseng was dressed slightly more formal, with thin linen grey button-up and khaki chinos. Reno was dressed in a tight black sleeveless T shirt and dark blue jeans. Arien was in a denim tank top with a white crop cardigan. Around her neck was a choker with large blue flower on it, and she was wearing white high heel sandals, making her look even taller. Arien and Elena had bought their outfits a few days before in town; Arien had purchased the choker, but Elena had bought the dress itself, falling in love with it on first sight. Arien looked even lankier than usual with her heels.

They headed over to the club leisurely, walking to the town as it was not a long distance. The interior of the club was dark, and live performance of Latin beat music was thudding through the air. Rude and Tseng headed straight over to the bar after getting the booth; Elena was asked to dance right away, and Arien headed over to the bathroom. When she had returned, she could not find anyone from her group, and she was looking around when someone grabbed her hand.

"Arrgh!" She cried, but realised that it was her superior.

"Hey Arie! Over here!" Reno called out, pulling her into the crowd. Arien lost her balance with the sudden yank and wobbled.

"Whoa!" The floor was dark with flashing lights. "Oh jeez, it's you."

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

"I thought it was someone trying to grab my wallet." Arien replied.

"Yeah, and they grab the hand instead? Come on Arie, even they aren't that stupid. Can you dance?"

"Don't know, I haven't gone clubbing since school days…" she protested while freeing her hair. But despite such banter, she followed the beat without much trouble. Raising one hand above her head and the other across her body with the hand on her hips, she moved to the music. The blue crystal rose on her earrings turned purple under the red light. Her hair spread, covering her body; the blue flower on her neck swayed every time she moved. When Reno grabbed her raised hand she twirled. When she returned, he grasped her into his arms. He could see her neck, red in the light; her hair hung free from the other side. She could feel his breath on her neck. This was too close for her comfort. Actually, everyone was too close for her comfort. Some proximity was nice, but this was invading her personal bubble.

"There's Tseng!"

"Huh?" Arien had twirled in his arms, raised her eyebrow, and returned to the table.

When Reno had returned to the table, five dances later, there were empty glasses and pitchers as well as a few plates of finger food on the table. Rude, Arien and Tseng were talking. The three had occupied the seats but they moved to make another when they saw the redhead.

"How was the dance?"

"Hot." The three had no idea if he meant hot as in temperature, or as in something else. "Yo Chief, aren't ya gonna dance?" he poured a glass of Sangria to himself, then downed it. "Ramuh, Bahamut, it's hot in here! Where's 'Laney?"

"Dancing the night away," Arien replied, pointing. "Everybody loves her." She picked up a shrimp.

Reno lit his cigarette, took a drag, then spread his arms and leaned onto the back of the seat. "Yeah well, she's missing out on the booze. I haven't danced this much since… dunno."

"I think I've had my hip exercise for the year," Arien said. "I honestly don't know how she manages to dance for such a long time. I'd be dead by now if I danced that much."

"She's more flexible. Around the hip."

"You'd know that, won't you," came back the wry reply. In the meanwhile, Tseng and Rude were gesturing toward each other; small gestures, barely noticeable, but Reno noticed it right away. When Tseng nodded to him and then to Arien, Reno grabbed her arm. Tseng was now busy sending a text message.

"What?"

"Emergency mission."

"Now?"

"Yeah. You packin'?"

"Beretta." That was her spare.

"Good enough. We need to take out a guy."

"We?"

"Well, I'm your boss." Reno pointed out. "The guy's about 30, blond shoulder length hair, white shirt."

"And the objective?"

"Just get rid of him." Reno added a vicious grin. "Permanently."

"I don't have a silencer," she said with a panicked look.

"Then you gotta get rid of him some other way, huh, don't you babe?"

After that brief conversation, Arien stood up and left. Reno followed a short while later. Tseng slid his mobile back into the pocket, then asked Rude whether the bill was paid for the food. It was. Then, the two men left.


	6. 5: The Seduction Game

ZakuReno - no, her first mission was much more tame in the previous version. It was more along the lines of "kill your former coworker, whom you never talked to anyway"; this one's a bit more titillating. Much more gun terminology is used in this one as well, mainly because I didn't do any shooting back then as I do now (no, I don't shoot anyone). Quite a few changes in this story, as well as more in-depth depiction of Reno/Arien relationship, as it was only touched in the previous one while it was central to the story.

Katreda - Arien is much more of a loner in the previous version. Arien and Reno get along well in this version because I made her more aware of her position as a subordinate (the previous Arien was a bit more rebellious). I don't think the core has changed too much, but there are slight differences. She doesn't really like him, however; it is out of the sense of duty that she is obedient. Reno, on the other hand... who knows? She's not all gung-ho like the previous version too.

Echo - I forgot about that line :P. I always wondered about why Rufus is wearing four or five layers of clothes; it seems a bit excessive. And it's white (and black), the two colors that shows off dirt and filth the most. I can't even imagine how much he spends on drycleaning! It must be hot and heavy wearing four layers everyday, and personally with Reno around I wouldn't even wear a white scarf. But it is our dear president, loaded in gil, so I guess he can afford it.

thebazz - of course you may! It's at styleeternel dot x10hosting dot com (replace the dot with a . and no space) under "fanfiction", under "C'est La Vie Version I". There are also my other fictions as well as my originals (although they aren't uploaded yet except for the one I'm working on now). There isn't place to R&R, mainly because I don't like flames, but if you'd drop a line I'd greatly appreciate it.

I KNOW THERE ARE MORE THAN FIVE PEOPLE WHO READ THIS. SPEAK UP, PEOPLE! Reviews are the food of writers and I'm barely sustaining here.

Chapter 5: The Seduction Game

Reno, having returned from the toilet, watched from afar as his partner sauntered over to the man. Her wristlet contained a Beretta, but he knew that she won't use it without discretion.

Seduction was a game Turks rarely used; part of the reason was because they rarely needed to. Guns solved most problems that Turks encountered. But females, and occasionally males, danced the intricate steps to have their ways. So Reno sat back and watched to see how well this girl danced.

As he watched, she tapped on his shoulder. He could almost see what the man saw; a tall woman looking to have fun for the evening. As he had expected, they gyrated to the music for a few minutes before they disappeared to the general direction of the washrooms.

Reno stood up, and left.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Reenie." She looked up at him with a smile on her face.

It was easy to seduce a man whose brain was currently half-pickled in alcohol. Fluttering eyelashes, coy smile on her face, suggestive gestures and the right touch at the right time…

He pulled her into the bathroom, kissing. Tongues twisted; his hand sneaked into her waistline, then slid down. His other hand fondled her body lazily.

"Mm… someone might… come in," she said, her words muffled by kisses. "Can we… go into a stall…?"

He led her into a stall; he sat on the toilet seat, she on his lap, legs spread. Bodies moved; she leaned in, arms snaked around his neck. He could almost feel her breasts on his face, soft and warm.

He never understood what had happened when she had twisted his neck so savagely that his neck snapped.

Arien slid off the man. She locked the stall door, then climbed over the door. Landing onto the linoleum floor with a pat, she climbed onto the sink, then unlatched the window.

"See ya later," she winked at the closed stall. Then she jumped out the window.

Outside, Reno was waiting. He was smoking again, and acknowledged her when she landed next to him. "Had fun?" He asked with an impish smile.

"I feel filthy." She made a face at him.

"Yeah well, we're going."

The walk home was silent. Reno had nothing to say, and Arien didn't trust her mouth. When they reached the hotel, the other three were already back; Arien went straight into the bath. She was seated by the window in shorts and a tank top, bath towel around her head, when she heard a knock on her door.

Her first instinct was to grab her gun. Unlocking the safety and making sure that it was loaded, Arien approached the door sidestepping, ready to attack when necessary. She softly called out, "Who is it?"

"It's me."

Arien opened the door; Reno stood there, looking bright red. Arien had remembered that Reno had forgotten sunscreen that day. Rude did not burn and Elena and Tseng managed to tan into golden brown, the kind that made them look like they had just applied a thin sheen of bronzer, but Reno and Arien were not gifted with the right skin tone and therefore turned into lobster pink which burned painfully instead of getting a nice tan. Arien always wore sunscreen after a very bad incident one summer which left her skin peeling in clumps and her face so red she had hard time eating, but Reno's carelessness kicked in at these times. As the result, he had turned bright red. It pained her just to look at it.

His hair was wet. He must have tried to take a shower, and failed miserably due to the pain. She also noted him looking at her bared arms and legs.

"Bit jumpy, aren't we?" Reno taunted when he saw the Beretta in her right hand.

"Better safe than sorry, they say." She leaned onto the doorframe with her elbow, arm over her head languidly. "What's wrong? It's nearly three in the morning."

"For Shiva's sake, tell me you have aloe lotion."

"Bit of an odd time to do skincare, Reno."

"I tried to shower. I'm dying." Reno looked so miserable that she felt sorry. He, Renaldo Miller, who allegedly went through the pain and torture training without even a murmur, was nearly in tears because of a bad case of sunburn. But she knew just how painful it was to get into the shower after a full day in the sun.

"Hang on." She walked over to the cabinet by her bed, and retrieved the tube of lotion. "I like red hair but it's a bit odd to see red hair on a red person. Not very becoming."

"Fuck off… wait, did you just say you liked red hair?"

"Mmhmm." Arien watched as Reno raised his arm to receive the lotion. The shirt must have rubbed him on the back or some other place, for his face twisted with pain. Arien raised her eyebrows.

"Did you get burned on the back?"

"Think so, yeah."

"How were you planning to reach back there?"

Reno looked dumbfounded. She stared at him.

"Considering just how much you're burned, you aren't going to be able to sleep on your back tonight if you don't do something." She sighed. "Come in. You're letting the air out."

Her room was neat and ordered, just like everything else about her. Since he could not sit in the chair – it had a back, which defeated their purpose – she allowed him to sit on her bed. Tube of lotion in her hand, she squeezed out a dollop onto her hand, then tugged his shirt off and began to smear it onto his back.

Her hand was cold; the cold lotion felt good to the inflamed skin, and Reno sighed in relief. He knew that the days of warfare will begin again once they were back in Midgar, but now, just for now, she was just a good friend who was helping him out. Her hand traced the scars on his back, memories from the battles past.

"Here. You can do the rest yourself."

He donned his shirt and took the lotion from her hands. "Thanks, babe," he said.

He expected back a retort perhaps, or an angry reply; instead, she just smiled. She lay back, picking up a book. "Close the door on your way out," was all she said as he left.

* * *

The mission had gone well; everybody was safe; they read about the murder the next day on the papers; and after that, they thought nothing more of it. And they went on with their training as if nothing had happened.

The latter part of the training was much less fun. The torture training was painful and, as the name implied, torturous; the mental control the machines exerted were difficult to fight off, and they sometimes all wondered if this was all necessary. But they also knew that the SOLDIERS went through much worse. Abandoning comrades in cases of emergency was another training they disliked; they got hooked up into the computer, where they generated a situation where one must abandon the partner and leave, or end up annihilated. It seemed to the engineers that Elena had problems leaving Tseng and vice versa; what was interesting was that, while Reno only had problems leaving Rude before (and if so, only ever so slightly), this time he had problems leaving the rookie. Arien had problems leaving Reno and Tseng. Rude had problems leaving Reno, and Tseng had problems leaving everybody. The physical pain they received included generated gunshot wounds and other known tortures that were commonly used. In the end, they were battered, tired, bruised, and quite ready to go back to Midgar, where they were not as commonly exposed to such experiences.

It was during such training when the mishap happened. They were all plugged into the consoles where they were supposed to enter the virtual reality, perform the task then return. So it was rather a surprise when they felt their consciousness being released from the cyberworld and back into reality before they had even started.

Elena woke up first; rubbed her eyes wearily, then looked around. And saw her body still lying onto the console.

"What!" She realized her voice was a man's voice. Actually, it was Tseng's voice. She looked at herself, which was clad in what Tseng was wearing before they went into training units. The hair was black.

Next was Arien; unfortunately, to Elena's eyes she now was Reno. Arien stretched, twisting her neck to take out the crick. It was just then when she realized that she was wearing the blue T shirt that she definitely was not wearing before she had entered the virtual reality. Panic registered on Reno's face.

"Boss!" Arien exclaimed, only to realize that it was Reno's voice. She grabbed a handful of hair that seemed to be growing out of her scalp and took a look at it. Flaming red. She flailed in more panic. "Boss, what's going on!"

"It's not Tseng, it's me, Elena," Elena told whoever was inside Reno. She had realized that something was happening which should not have; otherwise, why would have Reno panicked? If Reno was inside Reno, he would not have noticed anything wrong, and hence he would not have panicked. Rude never panicked, and Tseng did not call himself boss; besides, Tseng would have noticed that he was looking at himself and therefore this could not be Tseng. This was Arien.

"Arien?"

"Tell me this is the virtual reality," Arien begged.

"No. This is real. I don't know what's going on, though…" Elena looked around. The men were still lying on the console seats. Then Arien's body started moving at the same time as Elena's.

Elena and Arien looked at each other.

"Is this just happening to us?"

"I don't think so. Then there'd be me in Tseng's body and me in my body."

Just then, Elena and Arien's voices said in unison, "Oh fuck! Why the hell are we back here?"

The women in men's bodies looked at each other. "I guess it is possible for a personality to enter two bodies," Arien said in Reno's voice. Elena and Arien's bodies' eyes widened.

"Wait a minute! This ain't me! Wait, who the hell's in me?" said Elena's body.

"Please don't tell me…" Elena moaned.

"Reno's in our bodies."

Rude woke up. He registered no difference. "…", he said.

"Rude's in his body."

"So where's Tseng?"

Just then, a technician came in with a very sorry look on his face. "Sorry, but there's been a mix-up…"

"MIX-UP MY ASS!" Reno in Arien's body shouted. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"

"Wait a minute, what about Tseng?" Rude's valid question went ignored as usual.

According to the technician, there had been a terrible mix-up when re-downloading the personalities back into the bodies, meaning that Arien was in Reno's body, Reno was in Arien and Elena's bodies, Elena was in Tseng's body, Rude was in his own, and Tseng currently had a completely empty brain.

"Okay. So re-download the correct personalities into the correct bodies, and problem solved. Correct?" Arien – in Reno's body – asked the technician.

"I'm afraid there's another problem…"

"What problem! ?"

The mix-up had occurred, the technician explained, because the wiring within the machine had fizzed out. Meaning that the machine was broken and could not be repaired until the next day at the earliest. Arien and Elena looked at each other.

"Tomorrow? !"

"Hey, why don't we just relax?" Reno in Elena's body suggested. Arien stared at the speaker.

"I'm not trusting you with my body farther than I can throw a car. God knows what you'll do with it!"

"Well, there are a few ideas…"

"Reno, NO."

"Oh come on, Arie. Don't you wanna know what it feels like to be a man in bed, instead of a woman?"

"Not particularly, no."

Rude returned home, ignoring the fiasco the breakdown had created; the "four" were sitting in the room with Tseng's comatose body, staring at each other.

"Hey Arie, can't you relax?" Reno in Arien's body said, standing up. "I'm going for a walk."

"No you aren't!" The two women hollered. Fortunately, Arien's body stumbled and fell down, sprawling onto all fours.

"How the hell do you walk in these shoes? !"

"Very elegantly. Are you done causing mischief?" Arien snapped; it was rather amusing to watch Reno's body yell at Arien's body, while Arien's voice had Reno's particular drawl.

"Ya know, I do have your body in custody! You might be nice to me for once!" Elena's body glared at Arien. Arien raised an eyebrow; Elena, in Tseng's body, started to laugh. It was very odd to see Reno's face raise an eyebrow in a skeptical manner.

"I also have your body in custody. I can kill you, remember that!"

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"Well, I can commit suicide right now, and then they'll re-download my personality back into my body, and your personality won't have a host body. You'll just be a cyber persona."

"Like a virus." Elena added. Then she thought for a moment. "Maybe this is part of the torture training."

"How?" Reno – in Elena's body – asked.

"Well, this is hardly a pleasurable situation."

"Elena," said Arien's body exasperatedly, "torture training is supposed to be training for _common_ tortures. I don't think being forced into another body is a _common_ torture, yo."

"It sounds very odd to hear my voice with Reno's linguistic patterns." Arien in Reno's body grumbled.

The three sat in the room all night; none of them could sleep, for Reno was too afraid of Arien taking drastic measures and wasn't about to let his counterpart sleep while he had to stay up, Arien trusted Reno with her body no more than she trusted AVALANCHE members, and Elena was too afraid of Reno taking advantage of the female body he inhabited. They never exchanged words about it, but Arien and Elena had both reached conclusions that given the chance, Reno would whore the body he was forced into. They weren't about to suddenly get sexually liberal because of a misfortune.

Morning came; the four bodies had bright red eyes when Tseng was reinstated into his body, and the problem was sorted out without further ado and much to women's comfort. Tseng looked around, noted that Rude was missing, and inquired about it. It took considerable amount of explanation to explain the ordeal to Tseng, and even more to explain why none of them slept that night. The training continued, much to Reno's chagrin.

Yet it formed a special sort of bond to go through such experiences together. It was oddly comforting to convene to the lobby during dinner, all tired and battered and unwilling to talk, to know that everybody had gone through the same experiences and did not want to talk for the same reason.

It was the final day. Reno had a broken arm; Rude's left eye was blue, and Elena's lip was swollen from a bad cut. Arien's head was bandaged and Tseng's torso was bandaged up as well.

"Do we have to come back next year?" Arien asked her partner as the choppers took off.

"If they decide we need reinforced training, yeah," Reno replied. "Hey."

"Yeah?" Arien looked at the man seated next to her.

"What was your worst fear?"

Arien thought for a moment. "I had to fight myself," she said slowly. "And I lost." Another pause. "Yours?"

"Not telling," he said. She nodded; she leaned back onto her seat, and within a few minutes, she was fast asleep. He watched her sleep as the chopper moved forward through the air. She looked young when she was asleep, defenseless and even juvenile. She was indeed just in her early twenties; so what exactly had made her age when she was awake?

When they landed, they parted ways. Reno and Arien went home together; she had just said good night when he had reached his floor. Her eyes were tired and sleepy; she looked childish.

"See you tomorrow." She said.

"See ya tomorrow." He winked. "Sleep well, princess."

* * *

Her dark hair spread onto the pillows as if she was floating in the water. Her eyes were grey in the light, her mouth slightly open, showing pearly teeth. White arms snaked around him, her mouth wanting a kiss. He kissed her, then again, then felt his neck snap.

Reno woke up with a start. He had no idea who the woman was. Her face was oddly blurred, as if he could not decide who the woman was in his subconscious, and therefore decided to just give a vague shape and no definition. It felt oddly real, as if he had actually been in bed with her, tasting her mouth and enjoying her caresses.

Yet he was alone. In his own bed. He raked through his hair with his fingers, trying to focus in the darkness. Those eyes, grey in color, her hair raven, white arms. Those were the only things he remembered. But it was vivid, just as her face was vague. The colors itself were vibrant, but when he tried to recreate even a caricature of the woman, it slipped away from his grasp.

He flopped back in his bed, staring into the darkness. For the longest time, he was unable to sleep.

A few floors above, Arien could not sleep either. But she decided not to sit in her bed; pulling on a T shirt and jeans, she went downstairs and into her car. Traffic would not be so bad if she used the larger highways, and so she went out for a drive.

The roof was down, and she felt the breeze against her face as she drove down the expressway. The lights of the city flew by, buildings and trees and lights. She refused to tag her impatience, this anxiety onto anyone but herself. If she could go skiing she would have done that. Speed was the key to venting out this frustration. Her dark hair whipped behind her in the clear night, the air heavy with humidity. She felt the metallic taste of a metropolis in her mouth, saw the darkness three minutes ahead, drove straight into the stomach of the city. The highway weaved through Midgar, up and down and left and right.

There was no helping. She had no idea what the problem was. But she had anxiety and pent-up energy that needed to burst.

She wasn't alone. There were millions around her, people living, sleeping, and breathing. Yet she was alone. And so she drove straight into the night, trying to forget that she was alone, so alone in the night, where hardly anyone knew her, many hated her for what she was and who she worked for. If she could scream, she would have, but screaming did not make her forget that she was all by herself, in that empty apartment, with the cold sheets, the unrumpled bed, the silent room.

There was no help. Turks weren't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be unconcerned, the product of a city gone corrupt, the razor wielded by a very long arm to slice off anything unwanted. The city was unkind, uninviting, and it was supposed to be like that. People moved hurriedly, all the time, uncaring, not wanting to know, intent on their own ways. Wherever she was, on the platform of the train feeling the warm, tepid air on her face, or in the streets, or just in her car, she was not supposed to care about her loneliness, just like everyone else.

City beds were supposed to be cold. They were supposed to be unloving. City was where people slept together not necessarily because they loved each other, but more often because they could not bear to be alone, or because they were bored, or because they were just hedonists. But even when they lay next to each other, naked without anything to mask them, they were still masked, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Arien drove on, not knowing where she was going, not really caring, but as if she was fleeing from the cold arms of Midgar, like they were the arms of an uncaring lover.

* * *

"Morning, Reno." Arien stood back and stared at him. "You look god-awful."

Reno did not reply. She did not persist. That was Arien. She just made coffee, first dispensing the black liquid from the dispenser, then adding a dash of hazelnut syrup into it. She did not seem to add anything else; her mug was a delicately crafted lidded thing, with tiny engravings of animals and leaves. But he could see that she did not sleep the night before, just as he had not; the dark circles around her eyes and the amount of coffee she was imbibing told a definite story. Was it because of the very reason why he could not sleep, because she had felt so alone as he had? After ten days with the others, laughing, doing everything together, he had always believed that getting away from his fellow colleagues would have been a relief. And it was so.

But not this year. This year he had acutely felt the emptiness of his bed, the city where the buildings were uninviting and people did not care. And if physical warmth would have solved the pain he would have, but he knew that inviting a girl into his bed would just deepen the pain. For she sought pleasure, and expected him to be the same.

He ignored the pain. He knew it would fade, just like every other pain he had felt in his life. He wondered if she did the same.

But when he saw her eyes and the black circles, he knew that she did not, would not, and continue feeling the pain until it was unbearable. And then…

He shook his head as if to shake off the thought, and went back to his office, where another boring day waited.


	7. 6: Afternoon Rendezvous

ZakuReno - this story's really deviating from the original. I'm not sure where this is going. And it needs to get back on track soon.

Echo - That's why there's sunscreen. Unfortunately Reno never remembers. He'd be riddled with skin cancer if not for mako treatment.

Spazm - my writing has gotten a bit more stable since I wrote the first version. The first one was messy... and this one's a little less messy.

Apparently asking for reviews is a way to scare off readers. So I'd like to apologize to whoever I scared off. :S

6: Afternoon Rendezvous

"Fi… ni…shed!" Arien breathed as she stood up. Just copying the papers, and then she was done for the day. She placed the letters carefully into the folder, then headed to the copier room.

It was a few days after returning to Midgar from the training camp. There had been no incidents, no accidents, and no assignments since then, and peaceful days continued. She was glad of it. She was rather afraid of nearing her superior, although she had no idea why. She had done nothing wrong, she had turned in her papers on time. She had no reason to fear.

If she had closely inspected this fear, she would have realised that this fear only pertained to Reno and not Tseng, and that she was starting to realise her feelings and she was trying to seal it away, but she did not bother to inspect it. She would have noticed that it was much easier to seal feelings away when one was away from the being which caused the said feelings. But she never inspected, and she never noticed anything. And hence the days went on in peace, Arien avoiding Reno at all possible times, Reno fooling around, Elena being the victim, Rude being silent and Tseng hosting headaches and ulcers.

"… Damn."

The door was shut quite firmly, and locked. Tseng must have locked it before he left for the day. Arien stopped and tried to remember where the other copiers were. The copier on floor 54 was used by almost everybody above floor 25 and was almost never functional. Floor 47 was jammed since a year ago and nobody had bothered to fix it. Arien wondered why nobody had ever bothered to fix it, since this was the richest company and they should have been able to fix copy machines without any dent in the budget. This meant that the only viable copier available was floor 38. She did not bother going below floor 25; she had never worked there, never even went there, and it was almost guaranteed that she would get lost unless she had a definite destination. She knew where the important offices were, but she never bothered with the other facilities. She really did not want to go down to floor 38, nor did she like the copier room on floor 38. It was at a remote corner of the floor that required going through deserted corridors, and one of the doorways only opened one way, meaning that if you accidentally shut it and was on the wrong side of the door, you weren't getting out until you got someone to come your way. She was hesitant to go there at nine in the night, when the building was almost deserted.

But she had no other choice, and so she headed down to the 38th floor. She got out of the elevator, turned left, then went straight ahead then turned right. Go through the lounge, then turn left, then keep going. At the very end of the corridor was the copier room. The door was closed but the light was on, so she was sure that the room was unlocked. She opened the door.

"Ah…" She heard a woman's voice. There was a woman on the copier, sitting, legs spread, and there was a man on top of her, doing something. Her fingers were clenching the rim of the copier, pressing the start button unknowingly and copying whatever was transpiring on the glass. Arien was so surprised she accidentally dropped the folder. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted and the papers spread noiselessly onto the floor.

"Ah… ah… agh… "

Arien crouched by the nearby copier, collecting the papers, praying to all the deities she knew to keep her silent and invisible.

"Agh…" She heard a male voice. She was familiar with the voice, and Arien nearly died on the spot. There was no mistaking it, no hoping for a trick of the eye now. It was Reno.

Her boss.

Her first thought was, why was he still in the building? Then anger started to grow. She had no problem with him fornicating with anyone or anything at anytime, but anywhere was not an option. He had his office. Why couldn't he do it there! ? Or a toilet. Anywhere private would have done the job, but oh no, he had to do it in the public. She was sickened. Hurriedly, she stuffed the papers into the folder when she heard the woman's voice.

"Aah! Ah, wha, wait, was… the door…" Gasp. "Open?"

"Think… so…" More panting. Arien fled the scene, and ran into the toilet. She vomited. Tears ran down her face. No matter how many times she vomited, nausea kept attacking her, making her suffer.

Finally nausea subsided, and Arien hurried back to her office. She'd have to come in early in the morning and get the copying done. She just had to get out of the building, away from the filth she had just witnessed. She threw the folder into her briefcase. The nightscape outside mocked her and told her that Reno was the norm in this sin city and she was just being foolish. She told the voice to shut the hell up then ran out of the office. She needed to get away, go home, as soon as possible. She ran through the corridors shoving her arms through her coat, and banged on the elevator button. It was irritating, waiting for the elevator to arrive. When it finally came and opened with a ding, she ran in, leaned onto the wall and sighed. She was nearly there…

Or not. The elevator stopped at floor 38. What was with her and that floor today? ! She almost cried out in anger. It was almost as if the building was trying to prevent her from leaving. When the door opened and she saw just who had entered the little box, Arien lost all words.

It was Reno.

She did not even want to share air with this bastard; she was almost holding her breath. The ground floor was approaching; when the door opened, Arien was scampering away. She did not want to be around her boss, no way, she wanted to run away. With only that thought in her mind, Arien ran.

"Hey!"

Arien did not stop. Reno seemed to have started running as well; Arien increased her speed, fearing him catching up. Unfortunately, she was no match of the Turks' fastest, and when she realised Reno had his hand on her shoulder.

"Wait!"

"P, p, please let me go!" Arien stammered. "I, I, I, I w, w, want to go home."

"You didn't drive today, did ya? I'll give you a ride…"

"No, that's quite alright!" Arien almost yelped. "I'll just take the train home! Excuse me!"

With that, she turned and fled. Reno stared as his coworker scuttled away, as if he was some leper or a monster. He had a feeling in his gut that he knew what he was about. He had sensed a presence by the door in the copier room… that must have been Arien.

"Shit…"

He knew exactly where her soft presence came from. Unobtrusive, mild, she was oddly innocent, and it came from the lack of experiences with men. And Reno knew that damn well. That sexless presence, almost inorganic; just as fairies were no live women, neither was she. She was not a fairy, not by a long shot, but there was that same ethereal aura around her that she wore like an armor.

And such a woman – almost a girl – had been shown such a raw scene without a warning. There was no wonder why she had such a strong reaction to it. He could almost feel the piercing gaze of the blue-grey eyes, the eyes that defeated even darkness. He knew that she suffered from her nightvision just as strong synthetic odor gave him headaches sometimes.

He should not have cared what she thought of him. She was just a coworker, no more. But he knew then that what she thought of him mattered to him greatly. This was not a good start .

* * *

The next afternoon, Arien asked her best friend if she wanted to go shopping with her. In truth, all she was doing was trying to forget what had happened the night before. Either way, it was rare for her to ask her friend to go anywhere with her; usually she was too busy to go shopping, or socialize, and Ivana Delassi happily said yes. They met up at Sector Five, and headed out into the town. Unlike the previous day, the sky was clear and blue.

It was fun to shop with Ivana. The two women cheerfully went around the shopping center like two young girls, buying small things and window-shopping. As they started to realise that they were running out of shops to window-shop, they entered a new boutique. Apparently it was catering to well-off young women; the interior was chic and quiet, and the clothes were tasteful but not too showy. They selected clothes for each other to try on, then entered the changing rooms.

Arien sat outside as Ivana tried the clothes on; she gave criticism on what she should buy and what she should not. Next, Arien went in, and came out wearing the clothes that her friend had chosen for her.

"Arien! You look good in that! It's going to be a huge mistake if you don't get it!" Ivy told her.

"Did you ever think about the fact that I don't have anywhere to wear it to?" She twirled animatedly in front of the mirror. It was a knee-length dress in huge black and white checkers, with fitted upper bodice and a flaring skirt. It had a large collar on it. "Also, did you remember that I don't wear dresses?"

"That's exactly why you should get it! There's no harm owning a dress, is there? Seriously, you should buy it!"

"Uhh…" Arien entered the dressing room again. "Methinks 'tis too short, milady."

"There you go again. You have nice legs, Arie! What's wrong with showing off your charm?"

Arien had lost the argument. There was no point arguing against Ivy; she would cajole, coddle, and get her way anyway. So she ended up carrying a large bag when she stepped out of the shop. "I feel really stupid, you know, buying a dress I'll never wear."

"That's what you say, but you never know."

"Oh who cares… hey, do you want to go get ice cream?"

The small café was their favourite spot on their day off; Ivana had a favourite waiter and Arien had her favourite strawberry and honey ice cream. It was a shop that so clearly catered to girls, with the interior decorated in gold and beige with red accents. The waiter, Del, was a slender young twenty-year-old with straight blond hair that was cut slightly long, gentle blue eyes and ever-smiling mouth. Arien had absolutely no idea why Ivana had a favourite waiter. Sure, he looked above average, but did she really expect this affection to go anywhere? For her, this was the place to get ice cream, not waiter. Ice cream was ice cream, waiter was waiter.

"Hey, welcome back. The usual for you, Arien?"

"Yep." She handed over the menu, looking up at him. Ivy selected a cheesecake; they chatted idly sipping the coffee that he had brought over. "On me, for two beautiful ladies," he had said as he brought them to their table.

"Do you say that to every girl who enters this café?" Arien asked with a sly grin on her face.

"Maybe."

When he had gone away, they continued talking. "How's work?" Ivy asked as she tossed her silver ringlets over her shoulder and away from her face. Her beige crop cardigan matched her dark moss green dress, Arien noted. The dress itself was nothing new; it was Ivana's favourite, and Arien had seen it before. It was fitted around the bodice with straps to support around the shoulder, with a knee-length skirt. Ivy had matched it with a matching green scarf, black tights and dark green suede mary janes.

"Mmm, getting used to it," Arien sipped her coffee. It was black, as always. "Tseng and Rude are really nice to me, and Elena helps me out a lot."

"That's good then." Ivy waited until Arien was set at ease, believing that they would move onto the next topic. "Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Huh?"

"Reno. You haven't talked about him once. Aren't you directly under his command?"

Arien's face darkened. "I forgot," she said in a small voice.

"… Arien."

"What."

"I'm going to ask you something," Ivy said, "and you might not like it. But promise me that you won't get mad at me."

"Um, okay…"

"You don't happen to like Reno, do you?" Ivy asked slowly. "Because, you know, they say that when you like someone but you don't want to admit it, you try to forget that person, like reverse psychology."

Arien's glare became vicious.

"I'm trying to forget about him," Arien said in a voice that was even more vicious than her glare.

"What's wrong?"

"You want to hear about it? It's going to be a rant."

Ivy nodded slowly. She had a feeling that Arien was extremely frustrated with something, and that was part of the reason why she wanted to get outside. And she had to admit, Arien's work must be much more stressful than hers, and that was extremely stressful. Competing against men, alone, was not an easy thing to do.

"Tseng called me into his office," Arien started to explain. "After my first mission. It was the usual… you know…"

Ivy nodded. Arien could not exactly say what her mission was, but she could hazard a guess.

"And he asked me if I was going to be emotionally capable from now on. Just because he heard that I cried when my information ended up orphaning two kids, back when I was in Class C! I cried once. Once! And he goes off, rattling off about how women are more emotionally unstable, yadda yadda yadda."

Ivy sighed; she knew the feeling well. Apparently one tearful episode was enough to doom any female employee in a man's eyes.

"And then he goes off, asking me if I'm going to be emotionally attached to that redhead, because if I am, then that could be a sector hazard. I reminded him that my boyfriend died while on mission and I kept on working, and he then said 'well, just a precaution'. Just as I'm walking out of his office, that asshole comes along and asks what we were discussing since he heard his name. I told him that we were discussing his death, and he gets pissed! It's like if you're man, you're okay to be angry, but if you're a woman, god forbid if you have emotions because then the world's going to end." Arien took a breath to continue but just then, the ice cream and the cake was delivered to their table and they forgot about the redhead completely.

The ice cream was a pink thing with golden speckles, topped with two pirouette cookies and slices of strawberries that were dipped in chocolate. She always ordered this here with black coffee. Arien looked young again today, as if she was indeed twenty-two and not the twenty six years she usually looked. Her pink blouse, the silver heart necklace around her neck, the stray strand of the hair on her shoulder, everything played a part to make her look her age, act her age. Ivy realized that Arien was just a young girl in the shell of a responsible adult; she never went through the transformation so many go through during puberty into a grown woman. Her laughter was guileless, unknowing and innocent.

"How's the cheesecake?"

"Heavy," Ivy offered her plate for her friend to try.

It was when they were discussing the miracle of Rufus' suit while still eating that the door opened and a couple entered. The man seemed to be listening, half-heartedly, with a bored expression on his face to the woman's chatter. The woman did not seem to notice the man's expression, and continued talking. Ivana realized who the male was right away; that obtrusive red hair only belonged to one person in Midgar. Thankfully, Arien was facing away from them, meaning that there was no fear of her seeing them. Ivana did not trust Arien's mental state enough to expect stability upon encounter.

Arien safely finished her ice cream. Ivana always felt that Arien looked so happy when she ate ice cream. Her face lit up like a child, and each mouthful was deliberate, as if she was eating caviar or foie gras. Each spoonful, the way she hesitated to clean the glass with the wafers were all so mismatched with the Arien she knew at work. She was not the kind to be called adorable or cute – she was too tall and her face too mature for that – but even Ivy thought that Arien who ate ice cream was adorable.

"Mm! That was good!" Arien announced in satisfaction as she licked her lips, savoring the last taste of it. "You know, if I get fired I'm definitely going to work here."

"Why?"

"So I can eat ice cream all day," she laughed with shining eyes.

"You're going to gain weight."

"If it's for the honey and strawberry ice cream, I don't care!"

Del came to give them the bill; he heard Arien's announcement and laughed. "I'm sure the patissier would be very pleased to hear you say that you love it so much," he told them. "The console's out of order at the moment, so can you two come to the register?"

The two left the table, and followed Del to the register. Ivana's heeled sandals clattered on the wooden floor, and Arien's flats patted.

"Cash? Card?"

"Er, card."

While Del was ringing up their cards – Arien was using Platinum, Ivana Gold – Arien was observing the ice cream freezer with an extremely critical eye.

"Arien, your signature."

"Oh, sorry." She signed smoothly on the receipt, then returned to the ice cream freezer eagerly, checking if there were any new flavours.

"She really likes ice cream, doesn't she?" Del asked Ivy. Ivy smiled as she watched Arien as if she was a small child.

"It's one of Arien's very few hobbies, eating ice cream here."

"I'm glad then. Here are the receipts." Del closed the cash drawer with his hip, and handed over the receipts. "Do come again."

"You can be sure of that! I think even if you forbade her to come, she'd still come here anyway!" Ivy laughed. "Arie, come on!"

Arien turned; her hair spread in the air. The redhead came within her vision; Ivy froze, but Arien waved to Del as if she saw nothing out of ordinary. "See you!"

* * *

Reno was bored. The dates always tired him. He had once told Rude that it was a circus training half-jokingly, but now he rectified that it wasn't a joke at all. Take a woman out, hang out with her noncommittally, then take her to bed. That really was it, but it required a rather surprising amount of effort to get there. To begin with, the incessant chatter was boring, and they got angry when they realized that he wasn't really listening. To top it, this woman was decked out in tasteless brand-name attire as if she believed that she looked good in it. Elena always wore something that was sweet when out of uniform and Arien never wore something she did not like for itself, and so when he compared them he realized just how different the Turks' girls were from regular girls their age. Brand-name items could look amazing when combined with the right things, but apparently nobody ever told her that it never meant good taste because one was armored in expensive apparel. Reno nearly sighed, but then reminded himself that if she got naked it didn't matter what she wore. He raised his head to pretend that he was listening when he saw a familiar face.

The woman, almost a girl, was apparently with her friend; their lively chatter was not audible but he could tell from their faces that they were enjoying themselves. Sometimes one of them laughed as if they had not a care in the world, the world was a good place and all was good. The friend was petite with silver curls that framed her face; she was dressed in beige and green. The woman was tall, and had her hair up. She was wearing a pink blouse.

Arien, and possibly her friend was Ivana Delassi. Ivana Delassi was the only woman in the scientific development sector, was sweet and docile, and happened to be the number one girl Shinra employees wanted to go out with. He was surprised they were friends; Arien was the type who worked like a man, so to say, and no one in the right mind would have called her sweet or docile.

Apparently they were having a snack, since in front of Arien sat a glass shaped like a lily with half-eaten ice cream, and in front of her friend was a cake. The way they were giggling and chatting, it was rather hard to believe that they were the in the upper echelon of the most powerful company in the world. There were few plastic bags in colourful patterns sitting next to them; they must have gone shopping.

They exchanged few words with the waiter who approached the table, then stood up. They must have finished eating. They headed over to the register; Arien wandered off to the ice cream freezer. The bill was paid quickly enough, and the blond waiter handed receipts to the silver-haired woman.

"Come on, Arien!"

Arien straightened. Reno felt that she had definitely seen him, but if she did she ignored him and just waved to Del. Ivana pushed the door open; with a merry tinkle sunshine entered the doorway. Arien half-walked, half-pranced to the door. She turned; Reno's eyes caught hers.

Her eyes had myriad of emotions. Dislike, disgust, sadness, confusion, disappoint… they all swirled in the blue-grey, looked at him.

"Arien!"

She turned forward. Hair danced in the air. The door closed; she was gone.

* * *

"Wasn't that Reno?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Arien had a curious expression on her face. It wasn't… anger. Nor was it disgust. Sadness? Ivana wondered what was going on in her mind, and came up with no answer.

"What happened? Is he bullying you?"

"No." She shook her head. "It's nothing."

"… okay." Ivana decided not to question further. At this rate Arien won't even talk. But something about her expression bothered her. She had never seen her wear such a face, as if there were million layers underneath that poker face mask she wore.

Arien wasn't an easy person to know. She was fun to be with, but that was just a subterfuge to deceive others. She almost seemed afraid to lose control of her expression. Perhaps, Ivy thought, Arien did not even notice the expression she wore on her face. Perhaps she did not answer because she did not know how she felt.

Ivy sighed. She had to wait. In fact, that was all she could do.


	8. 7: A Kiss and a Promise

Err... sorry for a 4 day delay. I was a bit busy in New York.... I'll promise I'll write double replies for next chapter, since I can't write any replies to the reviews this time. So sorry.

Chapter 7: A kiss and a Promise

November arrived with the autumn whirlwind.

Arien slowly adapted to her new job, and slowly the initial reservation faded away. Reno was another story, and she never relaxed around him. She was aware of him and him watching her during sparring, shooting practice, anytime they were in the same room; she deliberately ignored them. She could not trip up, not now. There was no screwing up. Like a monk trying to get rid of worldly thoughts, she trained hard, as if by physical exertion she could stop thinking.

Reno, on the other hand, avoided her like a plague. She could only assume that he watched her to anticipate where she'd move to next so that he could keep away from her. She had no idea what she had done wrong, but she decided not to investigate. True, he really avoided her to the point that he seemed unwilling to even do patrol with her, but that was not her problem. Besides, what could she do? Go tattle to Tseng? The idea was so childish she didn't even give a moment to consider it. His avoidance was grossly obvious, however, and that got on her nerves. Not wanting to do missions with her because she was a rookie was one thing; not even wanting to sit next to her at lunch hour was quite another.

She did not think he hated her. Hate, this early in relationship, was rather too childish. She could only imagine that she had some grievous error and Reno was appalled. What infuriated her was that he had just avoided her without telling her the mistake first. How was she to correct it if she didn't even know what she had done?

Her office was neat and orderly. Papers were turned in on time, and training was completed promptly, without question. She had created herself to be the perfect subordinate, obedient, unquestioning, and dependable. She had gotten used to guarding Rufus, and soon enough Tseng had allowed her to patrol by herself.

That day happened to be the day Shivvalan was hosting his birthday party, and Arien was supposed to go with Zen. They hadn't seen each other ever since she had joined the Investigation Sector; because she had not seen any of her former coworkers, she was looking forward to it. Shiv's parties were famous for the unlimited booze, seemingly unlimited number of guests, and the unlimited volume. Because of the sheer number of the partygoers, Arien had no idea who exactly was coming.

After turning in her Beretta to the maintenance, it was seven o'clock and there was nothing to do. Report was already finished, and the necessary documents to write the next had already been collected, ready to be perused and used. All she needed to do was just go home.

"Yep," she said to herself as entered her office, "gonna go home."

She stood up and started to clean the desk. As she was sorting through the papers, she heard the door open behind her and turned around. A black silhouette could be seen in the doorway. She hooked a strand of her hair behind her ears, a very displeased expression on her face. She wasn't very happy with the prospect of yet another job being forced upon her when she had just decided to return to her abode.

"Hey, don't make a face like that."

"Oh, it's you." She finished sorting through the papers, then began to wear her coat. "If it's copying, can it wait 'til tomo… oh, was it something different?" She had noticed the expression that had registered on the redhead's face. She had no idea what he was up to. After all, what other reason would bring him into her office? Certainly not to offer peace.

"It's not about work." He entered the room, and closed the door behind him. The room was enveloped in a faded darkness; she stopped her hand, which was attempting to button her coat. She turned around again. The silver earring on her left ear flashed.

"If I missed something, I'm sorry," she said mildly. "If you could tell me what I did, I'll correct it…"

"I said, it ain't about work."

Arien looked puzzled. The blue-grey eyes stared. "Then what?"

"You've been acting all funny lately, but did I do something?"

Arien jerked. She wanted to inform him that _he_ was the one who was behaving oddly but she kept her mouth shut. Earlier this redhead was out of her office, the better. "Nothing." Only her voice remained calm; she thanked her years at the Intelligence for at least managing that. It took a while and a struggle to return her expression to normalcy. When she was sure her expression was neutral, she turned around, and noticed that the usual comical expression was gone from his face. Now that she looked at it properly, he was… handsome. Catlike eyes, straight nose, the small mouth. He could look cruel – and he often did – and he could look comical, but she realized she had never seen him serious. Her eyebrow twitched.

To know the trap and still be caught in it was nothing but idiocy. She berated herself.

"Not nothing. If you have something to say, say it." The usual joking tone was gone as well. He was serious alright. She trembled; why couldn't she keep calm when it came to times like this? ! She could keep calm sniping one of the dignitaries from a kilometer and a half away, she had entered dangerous zones without even a twitch, but now, faced with this man, she could not but fear. Reno emanated a certain aura that screamed danger like a red flashing light, whether for her mental stability or her physical one. Under the relaxed façade Reno was tense, extremely tense, so tense that she was surprised he didn't snap.

Actually, he did, according to the rumors. Hence the reputation postal.

She could not look into his eyes. It was too scary. After the avoidance, this confrontation was nothing but the steps to the gallows. She had no idea what she did, and she doubted she'd ever get to know; she would not be surprised if Reno suddenly burst in bouts of anger and decided to kill her. She wanted to flee, but he was blocking her escape. He was like a gaping hole that stood in front of her. Tread carefully and she'll cross over, but one false move and she'd fall into the pit.

She knew the truth. She couldn't tell her best friend, but she knew it well, now. But she could not bring herself to say it in front of the very person who was the very center of the truth, especially with the avoiding game he had been playing for the past few weeks. She could only huddle and wait for the storm to pass over. Moving, even standing up, was just plain hazardous. To admit it despite Reno's treatment was just going to worsen the wounds. She already had enough scars without adding another. Not to mention that whatever emotions he had for her, they weren't friendly.

"It's not you, so please don't worry about it."

"Then what's up with you?"

Arien never regained her composure enough to answer him directly. Instead, she raised an eyebrow. "What's up with you?"

He seemed annoyed by that comment. She sealed her pain away, then shook her hand bidding him farewell and good night, then left the office, leaving him in the corridor with that cryptic retort.

_Turks should not fall in love._

No one had said it, and no one had decided it, but she kept repeating it to herself as she hurried home. She must leave as soon as possible, erase the redhead from her thoughts. As she turned on the turning signal and changed the lanes, she wiped away a tear. To like her boss, especially someone like that, meant that she had failed as a professional. She felt that sentiment acutely, the numb pain throbbing in her head. Even if she could be honest and even if she could have gotten into a relationship with him, she would just end up being played about, then being abandoned. She had no intention of selling herself cheaply. She was worth more than that. She was worth devotion and commitment, two things he could not offer.

Luckily that night was Shivvalan's party. If she drank wildly and partied wildly, she might forget and the pain might ease.

Even if that wasn't true, that was the only thing she could believe.

* * *

Shivvalan's party was the wild racket as usual, and when Zen and Arien had arrived there were already quite a few people trying desperately to get hammered. A strong dance music echoed in the smoky air, the mirror ball reflected tiny fragments of light onto the floor, and the entire apartment reeked of cigarettes and booze. The vocal was screaming "NO ONE'S GONNA TAKE IT AWAY!" from the speaker.

"Do you think the DJ's gay?" Arien asked Zen.

"What makes you say that?"

"He's playing 'I got My Pride'."

"Maybe someone just requested it."

"Hey hey, you guys came!" Shivvalan came over. They took off their coats and handed them over to the host. Zen had gelled his pale blond hair flat onto his head, and wore loose black shirt and a pair of rather scuffed-up-looking jeans. On the other hand, Arien was wearing a navy satin halter top and a pair of skinny jeans. Her heels in navy satin made her tower over half the women in the room; her long hair swished in a ponytail. The silver earrings danced in the dusky light.

"Still a racket, eh, Shiv?" Arien winked at him.

"Oh yeah! Fun ain't it? Now drink, laugh, and be merry!" Shivvalan disappeared into the corridor, carrying their coats.

"Want anything to drink?"

"Sex on the Beach or Screaming Orgasm."

When Zen had disappeared toward the bar counter, her former colleagues gathered around her. "Hey! Congrats on your promotion!" and "Haven't changed a bit, Arie!" rained on her. Without even knowing, Arien had turned back into herself of yesterday, when she was just an Intelligence officer, knew what she was doing and had no complications. Tension left her and she was laughing. There were friends around her, and there was no need to be on alert. These people meant her no harm, these people only meant her good.

Conversation progressed. "Well, Palmer drinks lard in his tea," said one of the friends, chuckling. "Isn't that right, Arie?"

"Haven't seen Palmer apart from when I was guarding him, and nor do I want to see what he eats or imbibes," Arien replied with a frown. "But I've heard about that too, Rufus was on a verge of breakdown and was trying to ban it in madness."

"Why was he on a verge of breakdown?"

"He sits across the balloon during meetings." Arien craned her neck to see where Zen was. "But I'm amazed he hasn't turned himself into lard."

"I thought he was!"

"Heard Rufus only selects attractive people. Apparently that's why the Turks and the SOLDIERS have above average looks."

"What about Palmer, then?"

"Nobody said he's sleeping with Palmer." The room burst into laughter. Someone asked, "Is he sleeping with Tseng, then?"

Zen, who had just returned from an expedition to get drinks, dived into the conversation straight away. "We have to ask this to an insider," he said, handing over her drink. "Well, is he?"

"What? Is who what?" Arien wasn't listening; she thought she had seen a flash of red hair somewhere, and was looking for it. She never knew if Shivvalan was friends with Reno, but Shivvalan did have a wide circle of friends and Reno did have some acquaintances in Section A and Section AA.

"Is Rufus sleeping with Tseng?"

"How on EARTH am I supposed to know? Tseng doesn't confide his sex life in me, nor do I think he has one." She took a sip of her drink. Apparently Sex on the Beach wasn't on the cocktail menu, since she tasted milky liquor.

"Who the hell talks about their sex lives, anyway?"

"My wife," someone replied. The room burst into laughter again, and someone teased the man asking whether he had any sex life with his wife. The man crossed his arms defensively.

"My boss," Arien added crossly, rolling her eyes.

"Which boss? Tseng? Rufus? Reno?"

"I've never even talked to Rufus, and I don't talk about it with Tseng. It's Reno, of course."

"But then again, Reno's sex life **is** a public knowledge."

"There are many things you can live without knowing. His sex life's one of them."

The night passed with the people drinking, laughing and dancing. Just around eleven, Arien had went to the bathroom and was just returning when she heard a very familiar voice.

"Yo, Shiv! Got the booze!"

Arien froze; thankfully, the front hall was not very well lighted and she doubted he could see her. Why on earth was he here? She crept by the wall, taking care not to make any noise; she slipped into the living room, hoping to all the gods that may or may not exist that she might slip away unnoticed. Whether the gods listened to her or not, she managed to get away without anyone reacting to her presence. Just as she went into the living room where it was cleared away to make the dance floor, she was caught by Zen.

"What's wrong? You're really pale."

"I think I drank too much," Arien lied. "Not feeling too well."

"You okay? Do you want me to get water or something?"

"No, that's okay." She smiled. "I'll be out on the terrace."

"Want me to come with you?" She was glad for his kindness, but she also felt obliged not to involve him into her troubles.

"No, I'll be fine. You go enjoy yourself." Zen looked worried but returned to the dance floor. Arien waded through the writhing bodies away from the living room entrance; she opened the glass panel door onto the terrace. Thankfully, no one was there. Closing the door, she walked away from that corner to the opposite corner; the night breeze caressed her skin. The room was sweltering and the cool air felt good; she felt calmer, more composed. She turned her back to the city below and leaned onto the fence, watching the people dancing inside. Releasing her hair from the ponytail, she let the air run through her hair. That cleared up the head a little bit.

After a while watching people dance started to get boring, and so she turned again and started to watch the city. People walked below the terrace, unaware of an observer from above, hurried and busy; cars went by, and occasionally a bus would stop, spit out a dozen people or so, then leave. There were people living all across the city. Even if she disappeared tomorrow, these people would carry on living, not knowing that a person had disappeared from their midst. She felt odd thinking it, then felt even odder when she realized that someone might be disappearing without her ever knowing this very moment.

"Nice view, yo."

She heard the voice when she was deep in thought. She jumped in surprise. "Re, re, Reno! You scared me!"

"I know you ran away from me again." Reno was wearing a black shirt under a rumpled white button-up that was unbuttoned and was fluttering in the breeze; black jeans with silver chain dangling from the belt loop completed the outfit. Uncaring, cool and chic, he was perfect for the nighttime Midgar. A silver chain with a small dagger pendant was around his neck. He did not look at her, but was smoking, facing toward the room.

"I didn't run away."

"Normally people don't sneak by in tiptoe. If you're a Turk, at least lie better." He blew out a puff of smoke. "And?"

"What?"

"Again, did I do something?"

Arien realized that he would probably continue bugging her everywhere until he got an answer. She knew she should admit defeat, but knowing it and actually putting it into action were two different things. She drew a deep breath, and struggled; her mouth was dry.

"I can't tell you… well, no, it's that I don't want to tell you, rather." She said slowly, as if she was squeezing words out from herself. "I'd be really thankful if you didn't ask anything."

"If you can't say it I won't ask, but since that's not it I am." He released the cigarette from his mouth, then looked at her. "So what is it?"

"You're going to keep on asking until I tell you, aren't you?"

"Yep."

She was shaking again. She was starting to feel the cold, but more than that, she was scared. She had once entered a room where there were nearly twenty insurgents ready to kill her, but this was scarier than that. She had absolutely no idea how people managed to get through crises like this. She had gone through torture training, risked more than an average man in her twenty-two years of her life, had nearly been killed on a few occasions, but for some reason, she felt that she was risking all that and more with this enterprise. She closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. And hoped that her voice won't crack.

"I don't know, but you kept starring in my dreams." She said it in one breath, well aware that it made no sense whatsoever. But she had no idea how to sort the conversation out; this was a rather rare occurrence for Arien. She opened her eyes fearfully; Reno was watching her. His comical expression was gone again. She backed. This was too scary; he was serious! She seriously began to consider the escape route. Even if he was the Turks' fastest, she might get away if she had a head start. Her entire body was making ready to flee; she was so flustered she didn't even have time to feel dislike for herself for being so cowardly. He was still watching, as if he was amused by her reaction. In fact, he was. She had a poker face on at work, but right now her expression changed from surprise to fear so rapidly it was funny. Did she really think he'll just eat her?

"And?"

"And?" Arien felt perplexed. That was it?

"What's that got to do with me?"

"This and that." He grinned at her simple answer.

She looked down at the nightscape. She wanted to take flight if she could, but this was the thirty-fifth floor. If she jumped maybe she won't die, but she was pretty sure she'd be badly injured. She wanted to back but there was no place to back into.

She was being driven into a wall.

"I've heard things about you…" she mumbled. "And I feel odd the next morning when you're in my dreams. That's why."

"Feel odd?"

"Yep. It's only with you, though. Doesn't happen when it's Chief or Rude." She shrugged. "It's not like you're doing something to me either. But it's awkward, so…"

"Uh huh." It seemed to her as if he had smiled.

"Besides, I'm not sure if it's true but I've heard that women who do things with you end up an unhappy ending."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Heard a few times that you wine and dine, date the girl, then get bored and toss her away." She shifted her eyes. "Mad?"

She had expected him to at least feel offended if not angered, but he started to laugh. "That's it? I was worried that it was something worse!"

"I'm sorry for worrying you over such trivial things! I'm the kind of a person who gets twisted around with stuff like that. Do stop laughing, will you? ! I know you think me foolish, but there's no reason to laugh so!"

"Nah. Just thought it was cute." He neared. She tried to back, and banged her toe into the fence. Sharp pain lanced through her foot, and her eyes teared. The party was ruined due to the pain and embarrassment. This was all Reno's fault!

So the next question came as a surprise, and she nearly toppled to her demise in sheer shock.

"You like me, don't ya?"

Arien was so flabbergasted she even forgot pain. "What!"

He was grinning again. Arien had a violent thought to punch that Cheshire grin off his face, but stopped herself from executing her thought. He'd just dodge and then she'd be the one in pain. "Where on EARTH did you get that idea?"

"Kinda obvious. You ain't the first either."He took a drag. "You're the first one who avoided me this long, though."

Arien had completely forgotten, but she had remembered that Reno was the idol of the office girls, reputed to be the ace of the Investigation Sector who got his mission done with style. As for herself, she had been cleaning up Reno's mess for the past year and there was the equation "Reno = clean-up = the person who brings meddlesome jobs" already established in her head; even when she had become his direct subordinate he had made her do the paperwork, took naps until the last minute before missions, and such adoration had never even occurred to her. Indeed, he shot anyone who got in his way whether they were innocent passers-by or a politician, drove a man to the brink of insanity just to get information, and his jobs were basically "who cares how if it gets done". She could not even begin to fathom just how much energy she had expended, running around and cleaning up after him. But to someone completely unrelated to the Turks he would look like a man who knew how to play and get his job done with style. Arien was appalled. If that was the case, night might become day as well.

But she didn't like the way he said it. She felt that he was making fun of her, and this made her snap. Whether it was Rufus or Reno, nobody had the right to mock the former ace of the Intelligence.

"You bastard! Don't act like you know shit, you asshole! Are you sure your fucking brain didn't catch on fire and melt! ?"

Reno stopped and stared. Her anger just got raised to a new level.

"Besides, stop inflating your goddamn ego just because easy lays sleep with you! If you think all the women in the world are easy as one two three, then you're fucking wrong! Are you sure your brain didn't get pickled in alcohol then catch on fire?"

Reno started to laugh. He laughed so hard he doubled over.

"Wow, you're always so proper I thought you couldn't swear. Got new respect for ya."

"You can go fuck yourself and the girl in the copier room! Don't you dare involve me!"

"Nice! Love girls with fire."

"What… !" He smiled down at the woman who was shaking with anger. Arien's mouth was drawn in a severe line and she was glaring at him. Reno had never met a woman who could glare so fiercely, but then again she was the ace of the Intelligence; no doubt she did not win against the men in double A by fluttering her eyelashes. She gave no chance away, even at the party; he was sure that somewhere she had a knife or a small handgun hidden away.

"Man, that was hilarious," he said when he caught his breath.

"You fucking bastard!"

"Okay okay, calm down, calm down." He soothed her. "I never thought you were an easy lay, ya know."

"I want proof!"

"Don't have any."

"Too bad then. I'm going home." She turned and was about to go when he caught her hand.

"Okay. I see that you think I'm the scum on earth. Fine." He looked at her. "Then how about we just go out for three months?"

"… Huh? !" She accidentally screeched. Did he honestly think he could just bed in three months into a relationship with her! ? If so, he was wrong, wrong, wrong! Her expression began to get violent again.

"Look, you go out with me for three months, and if you still say no, I'll just desist. How's that?"

She raised her eyebrows. "No thank you. If you think it takes you three months to get into my pants, you have it wrong!"

"Hey! Don't misunderstand me, I'm serious!"

"You, serious? Stop joking, I'm going to die laughing."

"I'm serious when I'm serious! Besides, I always tell them that I'm not serious when I'm not. Or did your friend forget to tell you that?"

"Nope. I don't ask for details."

"Fine. But I'm telling you, I'm serious this time. You think I want trouble at the workplace? That's like shitting where I eat."

She took a deep breath. Ever since she was a child she was reputed to avoid risks like a plague. She was always like that. Don't commit into dangers, avoid risks, make sure there's a winning plan before doing anything. Her entire life was like that. But while it was rather danger-free, it was also true that she had missed out on quite a lot because of that nature. Because she was a coward, she would never get hurt but she would never hit a jackpot either.

Was this really how she was going to live the rest of her life?

Maybe this is the chance, Arien suddenly thought. A chance in the guise of this man was dangling in front of her. Maybe she'd be missing out if she didn't grab it. Sure, she might get hurt. But she would always recover as far as she was alive. Would she not become a person who would always flee from risks if she did not grab this one?

She did not want that life.

Arien nodded. Slowly. "Fine," she said. "But you have to explain yourself as well."

"For what?"

Arien stared at him. "You know damn well that you were avoiding me, just as I was avoiding you," she intoned. "Why's that?"

"Well…"

"If it's something you can't tell me, then I am definitely not going anywhere with you, let alone out."

"Look, Arie," he said seriously, "I'm gonna be honest, okay?"

"Okay…"

"I've heard about your rumors too."

"What rumors?"

"Well, you know how to use a gun, and that you hate men. And you hate me, and you wish me dead, et cetera."

"Well, I'm not going to deny the last charge, at least. You're a womanizer and a slob. Not exactly my dream boat."

"Exactly. Why make you hate me more when you already wish me dead?"

"What?"

"Arie, I can't change what I did. Sure, I've slept around. I can't change that, you hate me for that, so what's the point?"

"… I see your point." She was deep in thought when Reno laughed again. His low, hiccuppy laugh was pleasing to her. His face neared hers. His slender fingers held her head in place, raking through her hair upward from the nape of her neck. Breeze blew as if to guard the two; the fragrance of the night mixed with Reno's. She smelled cigarettes, aftershave, and a slight hint of blood. The lips met.

She debated using violence to get him off, then realized that at this proximity the damage might land on her as well. This was exactly why she disliked close combat. But for now, all she could do was just stand there. So that was what she did.

It felt like they were kissing for a very long time to her. What surprised her was that she did not find it unpleasant. He finally separated, with a slight grin on his face. "So. Truce?"

"I guess." That was all she could say. She could not think of anything else to say. I love you? Thanks? None of them fit. Even with alcohol she could not say it. "But I'm not promising anything, womanizer."

Reno watched her return to the floor after throwing that insult at him. There was a victorious smirk on his face.


	9. 8: Aprés un Rêve

I think... I hope... I have kept the promise. Ha ha! I'm honest (once in a while).

The lyrics used in this chapter is from the song "Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Have a nice Dream" from Soul Eater OST Volume 1. I do not own the rights to the music.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ENCOURAGING COMMENTS WHILE MY PC WENT THROUGH EASTER!! I had a writing block after I sat down to write this chapter and only with your help I could continue writing. These past two weeks have been relatively unpleasant for me, and for some reason the Turks have decided to go hiding in my brain and I had to coax and bribe them out. Not fun.

Katreda - Thank you for your chocolate, your hugs, and your empathy with Arien. This is one mega-sized gamble for our heroine, as she has heard all the promiscuous things about the redhead and none about steadfastness or celibacy. If I were her, I'd deem this as a losing bet and would fold, but then again I'm not a Turk. However this is still probably the biggest bet she had risked so far in her life. I'm pretty sure this one's just the beginning to even bigger bets, but we'll see...

ZakuReno - Love? Erm, lemme ask Reno, okay? *shouts* HEY RENO! IS THIS THE START OF NEW LOVE?  
RENO: WHAT?! CAN'T HEAR YOU!  
AUTHOR: IS THIS THE START OF NEW LOVE?!  
RENO: ARE YOU FREAKIN' OUT OF YOUR MIND?! I AIN'T NO MASOCHIST!  
ARIEN: I heard that, Reno!

Hmm. We'll see.

Echo - Me no get back my files. I had to build from scratch. My PC runs much smoother now, though, so there's always something good in something bad... I really wish I would have checked more properly, but I didn't know that PC's lied! ARGH. I nearly threw my laptop out the window too, but then I'd have a really old laptop that I got when I was a senior, and no way I'm going back to XP （I love the Aero theme）. So that was a no-go.

Anyway, here it is...

Chapter 8: Aprés un Rêve

The party ended, memories fading with the smell of alcohol. Reno woke up on Shiv's couch. He had a vague feeling that he was supposed to be feeling victorious, but for a moment could not remember why. Then he saw a telephone number written in lipstick on his inner arm, and grinned. The digits were rose, a stark contrast against his white skin. Arien had given her number to him after much goading; because neither of them could find a pen, she had pulled out her lipstick and written it in a hurried manner. He touched his mouth, saw the same shade come off onto his fingers. His nose distinguished the fragrance she wore, the slight hint of rose and grapefruit, jasmine and sandalwood. Her dark eyes, framed with long lashes, her looks of challenge. She had not fled from him, but had faced him. New reactions.

He looked at the clock. It was Sunday, and no one would be in the offices. Sunday, then Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday was to come, followed by Thursday, Friday, Saturday, then back to Sunday again. Tomorrow he'd already be waiting for the weekend. Tuesday and Wednesday would pass by, and the by the time he realized it would be Thursday, There was too much to do, they felt beaten by some unseen schedule that they were chasing after, they were living on 4 hours sleep cycles, and they were pouring in their energies into their work. They had never considered – the Turks collectively – that to become an adult was to do _this _until the end of their days. Childhood was so much easier.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number written on his arm, punched in her name, then hit save. He smeared the numbers into a rosy mess.

He stared at the phone, the liquid crystal display showing her name and her personal number. She was odd. Usually girls loved to talk on the phone, so much so that he sometimes wondered how they managed to not wear down their mouths. They were always moving, eating, talking, kissing, singing. Arien's mouth was generally closed. Her phone conversations averaged thirty seconds, tops. He usually shied away from her type, considering them bothersome and quite frankly not worth his time, but this time, something had struck him differently.

He stretched again, sat further back in the sofa, just as Shiv came in. "Hey Reno. Still here?"

"Yeah."

"So you finally got Arien, did you?" Shiv sat down on the opposite end of the sofa. Reno stared.

"You know?"

"The entire party was talking about it. It was THE gossip of the night." Shiv grinned. "Someone saw you two kissing at the balcony. Quite a feat, Reno. Nobody had managed to get the Gunslinger so far."

"Someone tried?" He was surprised.

"A lot of people did. You know how it goes." Reno nodded. A new female was always the new blood that was to be devoured. Like all large corporate giants, the company centrals were corrupt to the point it reeked with stink. Sexual disarray, treachery, lies and half-truths were everyday occurrences. It would have been natural for Arien to be a target. Usually girls fell into corruption. Gunslinger, apparently, was immune. Until now.

Something was overtly masculine about her, with a hint of femininity peeking from under that drove him wild. She seemed to be better fit wearing a fedora, a cigarette in mouth and a pistol cocked, wearing just a blazer jacket and black slacks, rather than a dress. She was the new conquest, and he desired to peel off her masculine armor to expose the white flesh underneath. That would be the ultimate triumph. But in order to do that, he needed to get close to her. And a girl like that… well, she understood her situation and took steps to prevent trouble.

He looked at his fingers again. Dark rose. Like a bruise she had left a smear on his body, getting the upper hand. She knew how to play the game, the cruel game of hunt and chase, where suddenly the hunter could become the hunted without any signal. He pursed his lips. The game was already on. This would need all the cards he had and all the hands he knew how to deal. He never had to do this in his life; most of the girls usually folded after a few hands. This was different. This was the ultimate game.

His first mission would be to identify what part of her was woman and what part was man. Everything would begin from there.

* * *

Monday arrived, and the Turks returned to their offices. Reno was yawning and nearly crashed into Arien, who had joined him in the corridor to get her third cup of coffee. The break, they all felt, was far too short. They needed three day weekends, but in reality they were lucky if they had a day off. She yawned as well, squinted her bleary eyes, then widened them as if trying to wake up.

"Yo."

"Hello." Just as they arrived at the coffee machine, Reno saw that only the DECAF light was on. He stopped.

"What?" She peered over his shoulder. "Er, please tell me the machine's wrong and decaf isn't the only thing available."

"It is." He turned. "TSENG!"

A second later, Tseng was upon them. "What is it, Reno? This better be the second coming of the Apocalypse or I'd be very irritated."

"This machine only has decaf," Reno stated. In his opinion, this was the equivalent of the second coming of the Apocalypse.

"… so?" Apparently Tseng believed otherwise.

"Sir, at this rate you're going to get a much decaffeinated report."

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?" Reno turned to her.

"Well, in my case, it will only say 'Mission. Accomplished.'. I don't have energy to write more than that."

"Ha, nice!" Reno howled with laughter. Tseng sighed.

"Alright, I'll get the machine to be filled with regular coffee as well. Instead, I demand work to be done promptly today. Reno! Are you listening?"

"Mm," was the non-committal response from the redhead. Arien yawned again, this time so largely that Tseng wondered it was a miracle her jaw didn't dislocate. With that, the three dispersed.

The rest of the day was just as un-motivating as the morning. Reno officially wound down to a halt an hour into noon, and he was slumped onto his desk, sleeping. Arien was getting frustrated at her rate of work. Elena was jittery and Rude was out on patrol. It was four and everyone was getting on each other's nerves when Arien's phone rang.

She looked at the caller ID. It was an inner line, her next door neighbor to be exact. She picked up, this time welcoming the break of monotony. "Hello."

"Hey babe. How's it goin'?"

"Fabulous," she replied boredly. "What?"

"Wanna go out for a drink?"

"Now?!"

"No, not now." She heard Reno's laughter. "Unless…"

"No," she replied hastily. "Eight." With that, she hung up, wondering how Reno had foreseen that this would indeed break the sluggish monotony of the day and give her an extra boost to speed up her work. She frowned, stretched, then picked up her pen again. Coffee was not doing the job. She really wished she could stop yawning. The phone rang again. She picked up, knowing exactly who it was without even looking at the caller ID.

"What."

"Wear a dress." The phone died. She stared at it. "Wear a dress?" Why? She scrunched up her face in frustration. She could refuse, but then this might be some mission that Reno was just not telling about. She grimaced, then decided to leave the office around five to retrieve something she could wear. This broke the monotony alright, but she had a bad premonition that the night was not going to be as peaceful as she wished.

* * *

"Hey yo."

Arien was just reaching for her coat; she turned. She gestured to wait, then began pushing her arms through the coat sleeves. Reno watched as she buttoned her coat, pleased with the hard edge the coat gave her. She tied her belt around her waist, then picked up her keys from the desk and walked to him.

"Where's Rude?"

"Rude isn't…" he paused, trying to find the word.

"Debonair."

"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, he's not gonna come with me on a date!"

She raised an eyebrow. "This is a date?"

"Yeah, I'd call it a date since I'm driving, and buying."

She cast a glance and a smile, but said nothing. He noticed that she was not wearing the same shade of lipstick as Saturday; today it was lighter, almost indiscernible save the slight pearly sheen. Her eyelids were shaded nude. Apparently Heidegger had decided that women were to look like office girls rather than field agents. Elena and Arien were treading thin lines, wearing nude eyeshadow to cut down on time; wearing any other color would make any mistake glaringly obvious, but with nude, you could apply it onto your nose and still not be noticed. She was wearing a black dress under the Shinra-issued uniform blazer. She had nice legs, Reno decided. Usually they were hidden under the denim or the slacks, but under nothing but black nylons he could see the contours very well.

"Did you know that we're all over the office building as the juiciest piece of gossip?" Arien asked as she locked the door.

"Yup. Shiv told me on Sunday."

"So it's true." Arien's face did not change but he noticed a slight change of expression in her eyes, hinting annoyance.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"Ivy called me, asked me if it was true that I was snogging Reno Miller on Shivvalan's balcony at the party on Saturday."

"Snogging…" he snickered.

"Shut up. That's what she said."

"What did you tell her?"

"That we did. No point in lying."

"Well, that's good." Seeing Arien stare at him, he laughed again. "What?"

"I fail to see how that's good."

"Well, it's already out. Might as well take advantage of it…" seeing Arien's face, he laughed even harder. "Kidding, babe! We'll keep it our dirty little secret if that turns you on…" Her face soured. Outside the office her responses were childish and amusing. It was as if she were two different people, the mature agent during the day and a girl trying to catch up to her age during the evening. He wondered what she would say if he just casually told her that she had bruised him with her lips, and grinned.

"Where are we going?" Arien asked a few minutes after they hit the highway. "I'm guessing we aren't going to Mev's."

"Bingo. We're going to a different bar. That's why I told you to wear a dress."

"They have a dress code?" Arien asked skeptically, looking at Reno's usual attire.

"No. We just can't look like Turks." He stopped, then continued. "Well, I can, but you can't. We need to look like we're not on duty."

"We are?"

"Maybe." The car skidded to a halt. "Here."

The bar was large, much larger than Mev's, and offered almost no privacy. As soon as they entered the bar, Reno dragged her to the counter, ordered a screwdriver and a screaming orgasm, then made her sit.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Just sit there and look pretty. You packing?"

"Yes."

"Good."

And with that, nothing happened. All they did was sit and talk. Reno occasionally looked behind him, but that was the only indication that they weren't just on a very casual date. Feeling more awkward by the moment, Arien nudged Reno.

"What?"

"Going to the bathroom." She picked up her wallet; she never took off her coat, and for that, she was thankful. She was going to pretend to go to the bathroom, then leave. It was a ditch. This blew.

Unfortunately for her, Reno knew exactly what she was thinking, and thirty seconds after she had gone into the toilet, Reno came in after her. Seeing the redhead behind her in the mirror, she nearly shrieked in surprise.

"Reno! This is the women's bathroom!"

"Yeah, I know." He casually neared her, then slammed her to the counter. "You were gonna leave, weren't you?"

"No."

"Liar." She could feel his breaths on her skin, felt it revolting and flayed to get him off. Why the hell was he so darn heavy when he looked so light? What was up with this?! Why was he on top of her?!

"Reno! Get off!"

His hand ripped her nylon; she nearly screamed, feeling his hand on her inner thigh. She screamed even more when she heard him whisper in her ear, "Keep it up!"

Keep it up? Keep what up? She wondered, then realized that Reno was searching for something when she felt his hand roam. She continued screaming. He was feeling up and down her back, but not the front. Odd. His motions were careful, meticulous, almost mechanical, not quite the touch an inflamed man might have. Then…

She stared at the little clay Reno had taken off her back. It then hit her just what exactly it was. With an alarmed haste, she threw off her coat. Little residues of the clay were on the back of her coat, the color almost the exact match to the fabric. She would never have noticed. The clay had a tiny little black piece of plastic in the middle, so small that it was almost invisible. She paled. Reno dropped it into the sink, then released the water from the faucet. With a gurgle the clay traveled down the drain and out of their sight.

The drive home was silent. She was still shaken from the experience – she had never been bugged before, and she just could not forgive herself that her guard was so down that she had let someone bug her – and Reno did not seem to want to talk. When they were about to get out of the car and onto the car park, Reno finally turned to look at her.

"You were bugged," Reno said with a coolness that grated on her nerves. "Did you really think I was gonna rape you?"

"Perhaps." She shrugged. With Reno, she never knew, would never put it past him. But the explosive, while not large enough to cause any damage to her surroundings, would have cleanly taken out her heart, killing her in the process. The little black piece of plastic was a hidden microphone, of course. Someone was watching them, knew that they were watching somebody. It was a dizzying game of spying.

"Yeah, well, I don't rape girls. I'm not that evil." He grinned. "Though…"

She definitely did not like the grin on his face. He took out a permanent marker on his keychain, teal in color, and with a quick motion he scribbled his number onto her inner thigh. The number was a stark contrast to her pale skin and the black ripped nylon.

"Call me."

With that, he was gone. She got out, locked the door, then slammed it shut. She had no idea why he could not have written it somewhere else, or in fact, on something else other than herself. She could still feel the felt tip running on her thigh, and shivered again. Apparently God could not just deal excitement even-handedly; the morning was nothing but pure boredom, and the evening was nothing but tension. With a resolute shake of her head, she walked over to the elevator, ready to get into the shower and then into bed.

* * *

The number would not come off.

She guessed it was a sort of reciprocation for what she had done, writing her number on his arm with lipstick, but while lipstick would come off easily with one shower permanent marker would not. It took her ten minutes and almost rubbing the skin off her leg to get the number off her body, and even then the faint teal stayed there like a reminder. The eight digits, scribbled with haste in a messy handwriting, with the two jerky and six with too big of a loop, remained on her flesh like a tattoo. Arien had finally given up and gone to bed, but then had a nightmare in which Reno had filed an ownership claim on her, stating that since his number was on her she was officially his. She woke up in cold sweat, and wondered why so many women wanted to become his. This was nothing short of terrifying.

She could not go back to sleep, and so remained in bed, staring at the darkened ceiling, wearing the eye mask to shut out the light source. She then picked up the phone. It was three. She put it back down again. Then she realized that she was spending an exorbitant amount of concentration and time on the redhead, and decided to forget about it.

She had fallen asleep again without realizing, and the next thing she knew the alarm was screaming at her to wake up. She woke up grudgingly, hugging her pillow, then realized that any more delay and she would be late. In a panicked hurry she changed, nearly tripping over her own foot, and rushed out the door. On the way to work Tseng called her, ordering to stop at a coffee chain and pick up a muffin, a donut, and five cups of coffee. When she had entered the coffee shop there was a line that stretched out onto the avenue, and Arien used her ID to force her way in. She ignored the booing of the other customers, recited the order, and then rushed out. Now she was officially running late.

When she had rushed into the conference room, there were Elena, Rude, Tseng, and no Reno. Tseng glanced at her. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Reno."

"I don't know, sir." She sat down. She unwrapped the bagel and began to eat as she booted her laptop. The flashing reminder told her that she had fifteen unread e-mails and two bulletins, as well as a new case report.

"Right. I'm going to start," said Tseng irritably. "Our next target is to hunt down the remnants of the AVALNCHE group."

Arien bit into her bagel; Elena was ripping her blueberry muffin apart.

"We have received an intel informing that they are planning something along the lines of destroying the plant," Tseng continued. "Unfortunately, we do not believe that we can put a stop to this. However…" Tseng's words hiccupped and died as the door opened again. Everybody turned to see who it was. It was Rufus and Reno, one standing straight and prim, the other squinting as if he had just woken up. Arien's phone rang in the tense silence, and Rude coughed. She dived for the phone and turned it off. Tension was in the air.

"Tseng, I need something to tell the President about our strategy with AVALANCHE," Rufus said as if Reno did not exist. Reno stood there, wanting to get in but unable to do so. "I need it by noon." Rufus turned, nearly crashed into Reno, and with a flourish left the floor. Now Elena and Arien's phones were vibrating, and Rude's beeper was beeping. They respectively saw the callers as the heads of the departments. Elena got to her phone first, and heard the Scarlett's screeching. Arien saw Heidegger's number and turned the phone off. Rude left the beeper alone, and Reno finally got into the room and sat down.

"We need to hit the any lead we have," Tseng continued. "For that, we have to steps in this operation. First, Elena, Rude, and I will head to Cosmo Canyon and try to hit their defunct outpost…"

"Why?" Reno asked.

"Why what?"

"Their post's busted. Why hit them?"

"Because the President ordered to eliminate any potential threat. The Cosmo post is the second largest after Midgar, and you two will try to find the Midgar outpost."

"Two?" Arien piped up.

"Yes. You and Reno."

Reno grinned a knowing grin at her. Arien calmly finished her bagel.

After the briefing, Arien and Reno headed to the training arena. The SOLDIER had training in the afternoon that day, and the Turks thought it best to make full use of it before the SOLDIERS came in and made a mess of it. They selected the setting – a back alley in the night – then fitted the earbuds in. The earbuds provided communication with the Turks floor just in case they had an emergency and had to ditch everything and go, but they also used it to listen to music during combat. They knew very well that it was rather frivolous of themselves to listen to something other than the generated sound effects, but after a while deafening clangs got boring.

"Ready?"

Arien nodded. Reno flipped the switch. Immediately a generated setting of a very dirty slum alley sprung up around them, complete with the dim darkness of the night. As the first attacker was generated and came charging at them, they felt the adrenaline rush. A very fast-paced electronica blared in their ears.

"Bang bang bang bang! Have a nice dream," Reno chirped along with the music as he took out the holographic enemy with his baton. Arien was pulling the trigger one after another, twirling a pirouette as she avoided getting hit.

"How many did you set!" Arien shouted.

"Fifty!" he shouted as he kicked a woman in the neck, cleanly breaking it. Arien was on the other side, snapping another magazine into her left gun while emptying the cartridges of her right. The huge digital number stated that they had taken out fifteen. Thirty-five more to go. Reno tucked into a roll, then suavely froze the man in a pyramid.

The number continued to rise as they moved; when the number had finally hit fifty, they stopped, and the room returned to normal, the back alley disappeared, and they both squinted in the sudden flare of light.

"Hey, are you finished?"

The two turned, Reno's batons still fizzing and Arien's guns still not in safety. "Yeah," Reno replied. "14 minutes for fifty. Gotta be a record. Where's Rude?"

"…" Rude showed up behind Elena.

"Good luck trying to beat the rec!" Reno slapped his friend on the shoulder. Arien safetied and holstered her guns, then stretched. "See ya."

"What music were you two listening to?"

"Err, dunno." Arien took her earbuds out. "I didn't play it."

"Reno?"

"Bang! Have a nice dream!" Reno pretended to shoot Elena with his hand, winking.

The two Turks began to make their way back to their floor. When they got into the elevator, Reno broke the silence. "Hey, Arie."

"Hm?" She looked at him – head thrown back carelessly, a light sheen of sweat casting a shine on his face, his relaxed pose – and was reminded of the faint teal digits on her thigh.

"Your left was off today," he said.

"I cut my forefinger," Arien replied. Reno opened his eyes, stood up straight and neared. His hand grazed her leg.

"Still haven't called."

"I like to be unpredictable."

"Didn't think you were that type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Reno."

"Is that an invitation for me to find out?"

"I ain't playin'," Arien replied with a grin. "You know what I'm sayin'?"

"Stop takin' chances, babe. I can get real steep."

"I'm a sweet treat then."

"Oh yeah. Nice and juicy." He formed his hand into a shape of a pistol, pretended to cock it, then whispered "bang" as he jerked his hand up.

"What's my nice dream then?"

"Me."


	10. 9: The Bloody Rouge

Author: Me got sick.  
Reno: That's your excuse every time!  
Author: Shut up or I'll marry you off to Rude.  
Rude: ...  
Reno: If you don't wanna die...

But I got sick. I'm still sick. So I should receive a reward for still writing... but nobody gave me an award or a reward when I got sick and still wrote for the weekly newspaper for my high school.

Echo the Ethereal Swordmaster - I think you're falling into "redhead=Reno" syndrome. If you aren't careful you're going to start seeing even Anne of Green Gables as Reno (heh, fancy that). I loved Death the Kid too, but felt sorry for him, since I have a very similar habit of not being able to go anywhere until my room's presentable (which can become a lengthy process when you've just raided your wardrobe for that one white shirt!). I'm waiting to see what happens to him in the original.

ZakuReno - I'd think Reno's a sadist, not a masochist, in the actual relationship. The way he off'ed Corneo was... very sadistic. Which is why I love him (and I just made myself sound like a masochist). This chapter is the grounding for the relationship between the two, a bit of foreshadowing to show just who's the boss in the relationship... or at least that's my plan. I'm not sure if the ending's romantic or just plain scary... but Reno's a sadist in this novel, so I guess it's pseudo-romantic.

Thanks goes to ffwa dot org for providing the walkthrough used in this chapter.

Chapter 9: The Bloody Rouge

When Reno rang the doorbell that evening, Arien came out right away. She was wearing her trench coat over a thick black turtleneck and a pair of jeans. A black belt encircled her hip. Her hair was in a very casual ponytail. Realizing that this was the first time seeing her in completely relaxed attire, he noticed she looked a lot more feminine with less straight lines and more curves. Had Darren seen this regularly? This feminine side of her?

"Yo."

She was feeling around her body, checking to see if she had everything. When that was done, she nodded to herself, then stepped out the door. Suddenly she was back to DeVir again, the officer who worked in the room next to him. He wondered which one was closer to the real her as he watched her throw her coat onto the back seat.

Suave? Yes, Turks were suave. Sophisticated? Sure, as far as money could buy. Cool? Had to be, for life depended on it. Sexy? Perhaps, some people thought so. He had heard many times before how the previous generations of Turks were more dedicated, more serious, and had to bite down a bitter laugh. There were always old bozos who claimed that everything was better in the past, and it amused him slightly that even the scum of the scum like Turks had to be included in the list. It was almost as laughable as someone saying that crack was better in the past. Since the said topic wasn't good to begin with, what was the point of comparing it to the past and trying to decide which was better? They were both as bad as it could get.

Rude, Elena, and Tseng were gone to the Cosmo area; there were only two Turks in Midgar that night. As he drove her to the HQ, he sincerely hoped this lonesomeness would continue. He was rather pleased with being just with her. It was raining outside, just ever so slightly, so lightly that it almost seemed as if it was fog rather than rain. The tiny drops decorated her hair and her lashes like white crystals. He saw that behind her mature façade she was still just a young woman who had just crossed the threshold of girlhood.

He dropped her off in front of the building, turned the engine off, and lit a cigarette. They had both been briefed about this assignment, and he wondered what kind of a woman Tseng was trying to transform her into. A cigarette turned into two as time passed; the night was deepening, enveloping the city with its darkness and its evildoings once again. It was a full thirty minutes before she came back and knocked on the window. He unlocked the door and nearly dropped his cigarette onto his jeans when he saw her under the faint streetlight that crept into the window.

Arien was good-looking; that he knew. But she had never risen above other girls in the looks area. She never seemed to care enough to stand out, and the Turks uniform was unflattering compared to the brighter colors other women wore. So how was he supposed to know just how much make-up and a proper dress could change a woman?

Her hair – one of the traits Reno loved about her appearance – was down, revealing its length. Thick, shiny, silky and raven, it floated about her as she moved. Her Wutaian face was no longer plain; her eyes were shaded dark grey, giving her a dramatic look. Her lips were tinted crimson. But her transformation did not end there. Her body was sheathed in a black dress that accentuated the slimness of her waist; her legs were long to begin with, but were made even longer with heels.

"Didn't know your breasts were that big," Reno commented slyly. She had always seemed small-breasted. Not really A-cup level, no, but she sported no double D's.

"Push-up works wonders," she replied coolly. "Do I look okay?"

"You make me want to rip that dress off and do you right here. How's that for an answer?"

"I wasn't asking that." She narrowed her eyes. He grinned. He placed a hand on her leg.

"Is the writing gone?"

"NO." She glared at him. "It's not. I've worked at it for ten minutes before it was starting to get rubbed raw."

"Lemme look."

"No…! Mind the front, Reno!" He reversed out of a car's way before it crashed into them. He stuck his head out and swore vehemently at the driver, who saw the Shinra license plate and apologized profusely. He flipped the driver off, then put the car into motion again.

The drive itself was uneventful; their quiet drive was broken by a sharp trill of the phone. Arien felt around for hers, saw that it was silent, then looked at the driver.

"Can you grab it?"

She felt around, stuck her hand in his jeans pocket – he's probably enjoying this, she thought with much chagrin – and pulled it out. It was from Tseng.

"It's Tseng."

He waved his hand, telling her to hand the phone over. With his thumb he hit "TALK". "Yo, whaddup."

"Routine check. Everything fine, I assume."

"Dude, since when do you check up on missions." Reno switched into the next lane. "Yeah, we're fine."

"Good. I expect to see her back in ONE PIECE, Reno. Is that clear?"

"Clear as cellophane wrap. Yup, sir." Without waiting his superior's response he hit END, then placed the phone on the dashboard. His nose smelled cedar and rose from the body next to him. It was mannish enough to inform people that she was not some cheap hooker, but was seductive enough to tell them that with right approach, she was available. He realized that she did not smell like this when she had first come into the car.

"What's the smell you're wearing?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Did you pick it?"

"What? No. It was in the stuff I was supposed to wear." She looked at him, then it seemed to dawn on her. "Oh. Right. Your nose."

"Yeah."

"It's not hurting, is it?"

"No. Just wondering."

"Ah."

They had entered the slums a while back, and Reno suddenly stopped the car. "Right. Here's the earpiece. Has a little microphone in it. Get caught by one of Corneo's lackeys, tell me when you do so I can keep watch on you. Holler if you need me. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Here's a firearm…" The gun he handed her was miniscule compared to the one she usually used.

"Where am I going to keep this?"

"Beats me, babe. Between your breasts, maybe?" She ignored his comment, and decided to put it on her thigh. That was the only place where it could be concealed with relative ease.

"Do you have a holster?"

"Yeah, in the trunk. Hold on."

The two, Reno with cigarette in his mouth, walked around the car to the rear end of the vehicle; Reno pressed a button on the car key, and they heard the lock unlatch. He flung the lid open. After a minute of rummaging through the leatherware, she finally found a thigh holster. Hoisting her right leg up onto the bumper, she began to belt the holster around her thigh. Her skin flashed white in the darkness.

"Done?"

She pulled on the holster, saw it fit snugly, then nodded.

"Right. And…" He touched her face. "Make sure you come back in one piece, 'cause if that happens I have to go in and kill them."

Arien raised an eyebrow. "Was that Tseng's order or is that your personal vendetta?"

"Yes," came back the cocky reply. She shook her head in resignation, pulled out the trench coat from the back seat, and pulled it on. Then, as Reno watched, she disappeared into the darkness. In the faint artificial light of the slums, she was like a black butterfly with only her silhouette visible.

He followed her a few minutes later, darting from shadow to shadow. Like a canine he followed her scent, a faint scent of the flower and wood, and the sharp scent of lavender from her hair. He watched from the shadows as she stood in the foggy rain, and then watched as two men grabbed her – she put up a faint struggle – and then threw her into the car. The door slammed, and the car drove off.

Reno ran back to the car, hurled himself into the driver's seat, then turned the key in the ignition. If one had to play the mouse, it was not going to be him.

* * *

Arien DeVir blinked twice as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was gagged and was bagged. From the sounds of it, it seemed that she was in a car; the sudden jolts that flung her head must have been bumps in the road. Her hands were tied.

She listened to the conversation which seemed to be coming from the front seats.

"… she's a looker," one was saying.

"Yeah. If she wasn't going to Corneo, I'd do her."

What was up with the men and referring to "doing her"? She was not just a regular noun, for Planet's sake. This was the second time in the evening someone had said about doing her, and she was seriously getting tired of it. She was not a _thing_ to be _done_. She wasn't expecting some grandiose vocabulary or euphemism from either of them – she would have asked Reno whether he had a fever if he said something like "fornicate" – but could they not come up with better way of phrasing it? She wondered.

"Let's get her out."

The men were obviously former Shinra employees who could not make it within the SOLDIER ranks. Obediently she got out, saw that they were in the Wall Market area, and waited as her hands got untied. Then the bag came off her head. She winced as sudden light attacked her eyes, then winced again as the lurid building threatened to destroy her sanity. It used colors in every clashing way possible, giving her a headache. The two men yanked her up the stairs, and the huge doors were opened, revealing that whoever took care of the interior designs were just as deranged as the one who took care of the exterior.

The butler took a look at her, nodded in a satisfied manner, then disappeared inside. They waited, the butler came out, and she was led into Corneo's bedroom. When she saw him, she understood why the entire building was in such ill-taste that it bordered psychedelic. The man sitting on the bed was grossly obese, with green-gold Mohawk and robes that probably would have looked a trifle silly on-stage at Gold Saucer, let alone in any household.

"My lord, a new bride-candidate," the butler said respectfully. Arien wondered how any sane man could have any respect for this piece of filth, then decided that if she was to go any closer to Corneo, she would never be able to face the outside world ever again, and therefore if that was required she would cross-dress Reno – hell, he'd probably look better than her in a dress – and would make _him_ the bride-candidate instead. He can get mauled by Corneo for all she cared; she was not, _not_, going to get those hands on her. She would die of disgust.

"Hohi, hohihi! Me likey!" Corneo shrieked suddenly. He gestured the others to leave, then stared at Arien as if she was some new kind of animal at the zoo. Then a hand darted out and…

Without even thinking she dodged then launched into a kick. Her raven hair danced in the air as she twirled her body; the foot made a solid contact with the hand with a nasty crunch. Corneo howled and began to shake his hand frantically as if trying to shake the pain off, then shouted for the guards to take the woman away.

**What just happened, yo?! **Reno was yelling as Arien was escorted away.

**Can't talk,** Arien whispered through clenched teeth. **I'll explain when I'm alone.**

**Better hurry, babe. **

The last word left a pleasant echo in her ears. She felt her body temperature rise, then wondered why.

* * *

The room was unpleasantly dark and cold. Arien shivered, then stood up, stretching. Thankfully they had left the shackles off; she sat still as her eyes began to get used to the dark. The thin line of light from the door was enough for her to multiply it and see as if she was in the broad daylight, and within a few seconds she was up, dusting herself off.

**Arie? Report, please.**

**Fancy you saying please.** She smiled in the darkness. **I got into Corneo's mansion alright. I managed to get myself kicked out from his bedroom.**

**His what?!**

**Bedroom. **

…**I'm gonna kill him.**

**Wait, wait wait wait! **Arien hastily stopped him. **Not now! Do it later. Anyway, I'm in… a cellar, I think, or some storage room, either that or a very disused jail cell. I'll get out and find the target, then get out. **

**Got it. There's one exit through the sewers. **

**How do I get there?**

**Looks like…** she heard the rustling of papers. **There's a trapdoor in Corneo's bedroom. Looks like that's the only way.**

**You're kidding, right?**

**Good luck, babe. **

Arien pulled out a pin from her left heel – the hairpins were all taken out during the body check – and began to pick the lock. It was a tedious job and a rather long one. _At least it's pickable,_ Arien thought dully as she crouched in front of the lock, jamming the pin into the keyhole. _If this was the HQ, there'd be no way to pick it._ The locks on the Shinra HQ, at least on the upper floors, were all fingerprint and DNA activated, meaning that one would probably have to chop off the finger, keep it warm, bring it to the door and then use it to unlock the door. Hardly a pleasant business. Floor access itself was regulated by keycards. The only parts of the building that used regular keys were janitor's closets – those were being replaced by fingerprints, however, due to Reno's excessive access to them and the subsequent mischiefs – and personal lockers on the first floor.

With a final click the door opened. She pushed it gently, checking to see if there were any guards posted outside. Apparently not. Stopping to think whether to take her heels off, she debated it, then decided against it. A kick with 4 inch stiletto could surely break a nose. A regular human may not have been able to land a kick in a heel, but then again, she was a Turk. When need called, her body answered accordingly.

The problem was the noise. Heels tended to click loudly; that was solved rather quickly with pieces of rag found in the room and duct tape. With that done, she pulled out her pistol and snuck out into the corridor.

The corridor itself was empty until she hit a corner; the guard came running, and Arien mentally griped that she had not asked whether to kill or just incapacitate.

**Kill or sleep?**

**Sleep.**

Great. Made her work much harder. She swung her arm and delivered a frontal hit into the guard's head. Knocked out, the guard fell. Arien caught him before he went down with a thud. Laying him down quietly, she pressed forward.

Left, right, forward… she narrowly dodged a swinging arm of a guard, cartwheeled, and kicked the man in the head. A quick punch in the solar plexus took care of the other. Leaving two more guards behind, she turned – Reno was guiding her – and then went down the stairs. She opened the door, and the floor was jail.

She blinked. Then closed the door behind her. Most of the cells were inhabited by rats. At this rate there'd be no guard at all.

The man was in the third cell. He sat, subdued, in the corner; Arien nearly missed him. He was a lanky man, with abnormally long arms. His hair was maroon, greasy from lack of wash; his clothes were intact, but were made of poor material, colored dark. His jeans and his shoes were dirty.

"Knock knock," she said.

"Who's there." The tone was clipped.

"The wolf is dead, the wolf is dead."

"Wolf who?"

"The long-haired princess comes dancing prince's way."

The man stood up, grasped the bars so hard they rattled, and stuck his face eagerly between the bars. "Finally! You're here!"

"I need to pick the lock. Hold on." She crouched down, and jammed the pin into the keyhole and began to wiggle it. "Can you run?"

"I think so."

"Good. Take this." She handed over her gun to him. "I'll get the rear. Run to Corneo's room. That's the only way out."

"The front?"

"Probably barred by more people than we can handle." With a snick she unlocked the door. "Let's go!"

They began to run through the corridors; seeing that the target could not shoot, she grabbed the gun back from him, and led the way. Three more guards came at them; Arien spun around, leg and arm out, getting two in the process. Just as the other came at her, her fist flashed out.

"Ow!"

**You okay?** Reno's voice echoed along with the target.

"The guard wore a spiked vest," Arien licked her knuckle.

Up the stairs, then to the right. Corneo's door was glaringly obvious; Arien slammed it open, shot the knob off then slammed it shut behind them.

"Wha, wha?!" Corneo rolled on the bed, frightened. Without further ado Arien pushed the lanky man onto the trapdoor, then pulled out a rope from Corneo's bedtable. She had guessed – correctly – that a man as sick as this would have some BDSM paraphernalia by his bed. Sure enough, the bedside table drawer was filled with barbed plastic pole (she did not want to know where that had been), handcuffs, some bizarre looking gel, and a very long piece of rope. She quickly tied the end to the lever that was on the bed, then ran to the trapdoor, taking hold of it.

"Gyaah! Guards!" Corneo shrieked. Arien yanked the rope. The trapdoor opened, and swallowed the two into the darkness…

* * *

"Would… you… mind… getting… off?"

Arien sprang up. She was sprawled on top of the man; thankfully she was quick enough to plant the tracer into the man's neck. The tracer, activated by the DNA mismatch, quickly slid into the man's dermis. This would emit a signal throughout the world, its map accessible via Shinra tracing system.

**Arien! You there? Answer me!**

"Sorry," she said, not particularly to anyone. She stood up; her eyes were taking its time getting used to the dark. The man next to her was apparently checking to see if he had sustained any injuries.

"Let's go."

The sewers smelled awful. It stank of Shinra filth and all the filth the slums produced; Arien crinkled her nose, was glad that Reno was not here. He would have been dead by now from the sheer odor of it. If this smelled bad for her, it would have been deadly for Reno. They followed a walkway, climbed the ladder – it was slimy and slippery from the waste and it made climbing treacherous – and headed to the right. Just as they turned, they walked straight into a band of turtle men.

"Oh great," Arien moaned. "Can you fight?"

The man nodded.

"Alright. I'll take the left and the center. You take the right." She handed him the gun again.

"Won't you need it?"

"I'll be fine!" She ducked into a roll, then kicked out, taking the footing from under the left turtle. As the turleman fell, she slid the pin in her left hand into its eye. Blood spurted. Another was taken care of with a well-aimed throw of her pin as it slid cleanly into the forehead. In the meanwhile, the man was shooting with a trembling hand at the last victim. The turtle gurgled, then toppled forward.

After Arien retrieved the pin, they continued down the sewers, then went up the stairs. Climbing down the hatch proved to be tricky as the hatch itself was as slimy as everywhere else, and handhold was precarious. They fled through the room and down the stairs again, then climbed up the side of a pipe, with only the pin as available additional handhold. Each time she struck the pin into the side of the pipe, clear water trickled down the side of the metal. They continued on, climbed the ladder, then suddenly their heads popped outside like a baby's head popping out into the world.

Immediately Arien sensed the off-ness, and knew that there were the failure lackeys waiting to take them in.

**Reno.**

**Yo.**

**We're in the train yard. Are you there?**

**Yep. I can see you. I'm straight ahead. I'll cover. On the count of three, run.**

"When I say go, run," she said to the man. "Run to the right. I'll cover. I'll take that-" the gun went back into her hands-"and good luck." A quick check of the magazine told her there were still three bullets left. She'll have to make do with that.

**One.**

She tensed, crouching.

**Two.**

Adrenaline rush.

**Three.**

"Run!" Arien shouted, then began to run straight ahead as the man ran to the right. It was hard to run with the upper body lowered to the maximum. Bullets began to soar above their heads; Arien kicked off her heels to make herself smaller, than began to run again, her bare feet flying across the broken glass and debris. The sharp ra-ta-ta-ta and its answer echoed throughout the empty train graveyard, bullets flying everywhere.

At the end of it she was frantic. She tucked into a roll as she saw her destination, then grabbed the machine gun that skidded to her feet. Without even looking to aim she whirled and began to shoot in the direction she had just came from, aware of Reno and his radiating heat next to her cold, freezing body. Sleet-like rain was beginning to fall, soaking her hair and her dress. Her feet were cut and bruised, and there was a long rip in her shoulder from the jutting piece of junk metal in the wall that her shoulder had grazed. It was oozing blood, but she could do nothing about it.

The volley of bullets finally ended, the bodies now mute and on the ground. Arien nearly crumbled from fatigue. Her body ached. She breathed out, aware for the first time that she had been holding it. The hem of the dress was filthy and dirty from the dirty water in the sewers. Mascara was smeared and running down her face in black tears. Arien looked a mess. She looked white as paper, the dark run of the mascara and her red lips sticking out like a line of black and a puddle of crimson on a white sheet of paper. Her body looked bloodless as well, the black dress and the red line of blood achieving the same effect.

"You hurt?"

Arien shook her head weakly, too tired to say anything. Reno's thin fingers grazed her shoulder, its touch feather light.

"Want me to lick it?"

Arien jerked. Reno was pointing to the wound on her shoulder. She flinched but Reno had already caught her, his warm mouth touching her ice cold shoulder, his tongue licking the wound carefully, as if he was doing it to savor every drop of her blood, not to release her from the pain. His tongue darted, slithered about her wound. With a final suck he let her go.

She stared at him. He stared back. His mouth was now painted crimson as well, a deep red, the color of her blood. His face closed in; he kissed her as if to share his theft. The kiss tasted metallic. Reno suddenly felt there were only three colors in the world, the crimson from Arien's blood and his own flaming hair, the black from Arien's hair, the dress, and his attire, and white. Reno blinked, shocked to see the sudden change. Arien opened her eyes. Her eyes were blue.

She raked her hair, trying to find focus. Reno was grinning – no, sneering – at her, challenging her to react if she dared.

Arien ignored it. Opening the car door, she slipped in. The rain continued to fall. Reno followed her into the car, turned the ignition; the engine roared to life. The car moved out of the graveyard and into the civilization, back into its mindless cleanliness of the sectors. Fear enveloped her, the car carrying the two deeper into the bowels of the city. The night was giving way to dawn.


	11. 10: The Love Bargain

ZakuReno - I thought the licking blood thing would freak people out. But then I guess it's a bit like soft SM... use it in moderation and it might be nice. I think Reno is always asking for trouble, but he doesn't actually like getting chastised or punished.

Echo - After reading your comment I had a bizarre dream where I was dating Death the Kid. It was surreal. My boyfriend wasn't too happy that I was having supposedly romantic dreams about an anime character. It was weird...

Chapter 10: The Love Bargain

When Reno walked into his office the next morning – the other team was not due back for another day or two – he looked through the window into the next room to find Arien sprawled on her desk, face down. Her cheek touched the desktop, and her long hair spread across the wooden board.

He sat down in front of his computer, unearthed the keyboard from the mess, then checked when Arien had actually clocked in the time before the last. It was eight thirty, two days before. She had not slept for forty eight hours or more, and now all the physical exertion, the tension, the excitement and fatigue had taken its toll.

He kicked away from the desk, stood up, then tried the door that connected his office to hers. As the second-in-command, the only room he usually could not get into was Tseng's. As Arien was his direct subordinate, he was not surprised to find the lock programmed to accept his DNA and his fingerprint. Entering the room quietly, he stood by her, observing her.

Her face, asleep, was oddly childish. He could vaguely guess what sort of face she had as a child. He pulled up a chair, and sat across from her at the desk. He had watched her for a few minutes before she sprang up, saw Reno staring at her, kicked away from the desk in haste and nearly fell backwards. She managed to stand up in time before she fell over with the chair.

"Reno!" She exclaimed. "Wh, what are you doing?"

"Watching you."

She uprighted the chair, then sat back down. "Thank you, captain obvious."

"No problem." He winked. She did not move a muscle on her face. He noticed her mouth to be a darker shade than her natural color, realized that she must be wearing a lipstick. She looked like any other corporate executive, save for the fact that he could almost see her pistols holstered. He sat down in front of her.

"What?"

"Nothing." He continued watching her as she typed away. After a few minutes, he got bored and left her to her own devices. Arien forgot about Reno's existence as her mobile phone started ringing on the desk. It was Ivy. Reno had all but disappeared from the floor; the Turks floor was quiet for the first time in many months.

* * *

"DeVir... oh hey, Ivy." She wasn't entirely sure if it was moral to use the company time on casual chitchat, then amended that she was doing overtime to compensate in the first place. Still, she felt the guilt.

"Hey hey," said Ivy cheerfully. "How are things?"

"Dull." Arien yawned.

"And Reno?"

"Why the hell does Reno pop up into every conversation I have with anyone these days?" Arien complained. "I'm not exactly his jailor."

"You're dating him."

"Supposedly." Arien yawned again. "Last rumor I heard, he slept with Scarlett again. He lost his boxers in Scarlett's apartment and came into office boxer-free."

"How on the PLANET do you know that?"

"I'm guessing some of the office girls are spying on Reno's every move." Arien stretched. "I think they should get married... either that or Rufus can lock them up in a cheap motel room in the Gold Saucer region."

"The only drawback being that you'd never see either of them again."

"That's a drawback?" Arien locked her PC, then slumped into her wheelie chair, kicking her heels off. She did not dare admit that those rumors gave small slivers of pain every time she heard it. She could not stop yawning. By all rights she should have went home to sleep.

Ivy smiled. She knew that it pained Arien to hear those rumors. She was not entirely sure if they were true; Arien probably thought most of them false, but there was one percent that it might be the truth. And that nagged her like a sore tooth.

"Oh, by the way," Ivy was saying, "dinner tomorrow, at Lourdes'? Siva's coming."

"Err, if I can get off work on time," Arien replied. "Say hi to Siva's love-toy." He was Ivy's coworker. Apparently the Shinra employees liked to have intrigue and romance in the same building.

* * *

"Hey, can we talk?"

Ivana narrowed her eyes. She had guessed vaguely that Reno had somehow captured her best friend; she was not very pleased about it. Deducing from Reno's notorious infamy, she could only see unhappy endings for the raven-haired girl. Arien was too naïve to have Reno as the first proper boyfriend. For all her defensiveness and her street-smart as an agent, when it came to the dealings between a man and a woman she was inexperienced. And experience was the key to avoiding mishaps in these matters; Arien could deduce to a certain extent, analyze the intent of each hand, but with Reno… It was like throwing a tame rabbit into a lion's den.

"May I help you?"

"Don't look at me like that, I don't bite." Reno made a face. Even Ivana could see why he was so popular: the delicate nose, the mouth that curved easily into a smile or a sneer, aquamarine eyes that danced like a cat's. Each part of face fit perfectly, seamlessly, as if God himself had handcrafted him to entice and seduce. He did not have the noble countenance of the late Sephiroth, no, but Reno had his own charm. Even his flaming red hair and his insane haircut only helped to increase the charm, making him a rogue instead of a hoodlum. He was slender but not bony, flexible like a whip. The twin crescent tattoos on his cheeks made his skin look whiter. He was the archetypal bad boy, the kind who knew when to break rules and all the techniques to please a woman in bed.

"Come on, let's go to the dining room," he urged. "We can't exactly talk in the corridor." Ivana, unable to say no, just followed him. He was like a piper, piping a tune for women to follow. The executive dining room was empty; Reno took a seat in the corner table. Ivana sat down as well, placing the stack of reports onto the tabletop.

"Where's Arien?" she asked.

"In her office." He paused. "She doesn't like me, does she?"

"Who?"

"Arie." She noticed that his tone was sweeter when he said her nickname. It almost sounded like a verbal caress. A breathy accent on the first syllable, followed by a gentle roll of the R. It was painfully, glaringly obvious just how much the redhead desired her. Ivy was comforted in the knowledge that the Gunslinger was not quite soft yet, and was leading a merry dance for the redhead. To have her near and not be able to have her… that was one technique no woman had tested before, mainly because Reno was hard to resist. But Ivy knew that Arien was a virgin, and what was sexual attraction if the girl had never had sex? All the promises and pleasure Reno proposed with his being was lost on her. For Arien, the world of sex was purely hypothetical.

"Before I answer that," she said slowly, "let me ask you something. Why do you like her? What drew you to her in the first place? She's above average in the looks department but she's not skyrocketing through the roof, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Reno grinned slightly. "It was her hair."

"Her hair?"

"Yeah. I have a thing for long, black, straight hair." He shrugged. Ivana paused. Arien's hair was notoriously long, reaching down to her hips, and raven, which could be black. It was straight. The length and the straightness were rare even among the Wutaians. For the orients, her occidental looks were delicious. Unfortunately, Arien was completely oblivious to it; she never noticed the affections any member of the opposite gender bestowed upon her, only to realize months after the one-sided affection ended. Either that or she got annoyed, believing that she was being made the butt of the joke.

"So if she gets a buzz cut that's the end of romance?"

"No, not that easy." He shook his head. "I like her because…" he actually had no idea what the _right_ answer was. His reasons were few, and none of them seemed to be able to satisfy this silver-haired flower. The desire for conquest was one big factor; the fact that she had many facets of her, layered one after another like an onion, was another. Yes, she was just that, an onion. You peel the skin and think that you've reached the white, fleshy part, but then you peel that and you see another layer. So far Arien had showed him the party girl, the seductress, the field agent and the gunslinger; but he was fairly certain there was much more to her than that.

Adorable? No. Lovable? Not really. But there was a defensiveness about her that just screamed fragile that made him want to break her, to see what she was trying so hard to conceal. Every time she rejected him, it made her dearer to him, made him want her even more.

One night was all he needed, to see her underneath him, to go where few – if any – had been allowed to enter. But to do that… the gates were shut and walls were high.

Ivana stood up. "Fine," she said resolutely. "I'll cooperate, but if you hurt her…" her glare was a promise that Turk or no Turk, she'd come after him. He knew better than to challenge a woman's friendship. They could be fragile, yes, when there were other emotions in between. But when it was pure… it made a woman into a superman.

"That's cool. Can you help me?"

"Help you with what."

"She keeps evading," he said morosely. "I take a step…"

"She backs a step," Ivy nodded. "I know."

"Then what the hell should I do?"

"How should I know?" Ivy shrugged. "Maybe take two steps at once."

Reno looked at Ivy in surprise. She winked, then slapped on his shoulder and said, "I'm counting on you."

* * *

The phone call came while Arien was alone on the floor. She picked up, not checking the caller ID, and answered a hello while yawning. She immediately regretted it when she heard the voice on the other end of the line, and sat up straight without even realizing. She smiled bitterly to herself when she realized that nobody was watching.

"Yes, sir. My apologies." She said while releasing her pen from her right hand. "Yes, Vice President… err." She stood up, and looked into the window fixed on the door. "No, sir. Reno is not in his office."

"Just as well. You can tell him when he returns," said Rufus. "I'm officiating a week holiday for the Investigation Sector starting tomorrow. This is a paid vacation, so use it wisely."

"Erm, sir…"

"What?"

"Tseng, Elena and Rude are due to return the day after tomorrow."

"I am aware of that."

"Thank you, sir." She waited until Rufus hang up, then replaced the phone back onto the desk. Where did Reno go? She crossed her legs, hooking the shoe with her toe and rocking it back and forth. She patted across her office barefoot, then opened the office door, then went back to her desk. She cranked up the volume of the music streaming from her desktop. Normally she would have worn headphones but she was the only one on the floor.

"There is Marcus, all lust, not the one to trust, darky Lois, more vice, too sexy to be nice, Garand is fair, not rare, but dangerous if you dare, we are jalouse, high shoes, and always on the loose…"

Marcus can be Reno, Arien mused. If she had to name someone whom she would not trust, it was Reno. His good looks added even more to the peril. Actually, scratch that. If there were a hundred men pulled off the streets, Reno would easily rank into the top three.

Garand was Zen, blond, not extraordinary, but still quite possibly dangerous, and Lois… who was Lois? Rude? Maybe, but she didn't really view Rude that way… Tseng? Well…

"Boo!" said Reno, leaning forward, and Arien started. She hit pause on the player.

"There's a message from Rufus."

"Why didn't he just tell it to me?"

"Possibly because you weren't in your office." She said with raised eyebrows. "He gave us a week off. It's paid. It starts tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"Reno! Are you listening?!"

"Yeah.. wait, whazzat."

Arien shut up and listened. Two voices – one woman, one man – and three sets of footsteps.

"Whaaa, we finished early…"

"That was only scouting, Elena."

"But still! That was close, sir!"

"…"

Reno and Arien looked at each other. Yep, the other three were back.

A few minutes later, Tseng left the floor to see Rufus, but unlike the other times he came back straight away, wearing a strange expression. "Rufus just informed me that we have a week off," he said to the group congregated in the conference room. While he was gone someone seemed to have done a lunch run to the executive dining room, as there were packed lunches spread around the table. Sizzling steak, roast chicken, sautéed salmon and other meats were neatly packed away in containers; covered dishes of leafy salads and soups were stacked neatly. The microwave was in full use, and loaves of Mideelian bread were spread in the center. Arien was laying out the plates, while Elena was getting the silverware. Reno was flipping the corkscrew around his forefinger and Rude was watching the microwave.

"Yeah, we know," Reno commented.

"This room's going to smell like marinara sauce for the rest of the day," Tseng commented wryly as he flipped the ventilation switch. Then he caught what Reno had said. "Wait, what?"

"We knew," Reno said. "Arien and me, anyway."

"And why didn't you tell us?" Elena demanded.

"We figured Rufus finally lost it, either that or we were getting fired. So we decided-"

"It's not we, Reno, I didn't partake in the decision making-"

Reno ignored her. "-to keep our mouths shut."

"…" Tseng sighed. Reno was Reno was Reno, end of question.

"What are we gonna do?" Reno was asking. Arien looked at him.

"What do you mean, what are we going to do?"

"Seven days! Seven fucking days!"

"Hmm, let's see." Arien pretended to think with her forefinger tapping her cheek. "I think I will sleep…"

"And relax…" added Elena.

"And sleep…"

"…"

"And sleep." Arien looked at him. "Anything else you'd want to add?"

"You guys are so boring," Reno grumbled. Tseng sighed again. In the meanwhile, his subordinates were gathering around the conference table, digging into whatever they fancied. Meats, pasta, bread, vegetables… the executive dining room was supplied well. Rude was quietly eating at an alarming speed; Reno ate everything while gesticulating wildly to Elena, explaining the previous night's mission. Arien was reading.

Tseng tore his eyes off the Wutaian woman. He knew exactly why Rufus had selected her to join the Turks. Her tall figure, the slim waist, her dark hair, the exotic far western face… as an occidental he preferred Elena with her fair hair and large blue eyes, but for Rufus, the occidental looks Arien had must have been alluring. Same with Reno.

From the way Arien was behaving, it seemed that despite the rumors that they were now an item, Reno had not gone very far in capturing the Gunslinger.

Tseng sighed. Arien did not know about Reno's secret. And perhaps that was for the better…

The rest of the day ended in chaos. Reno had managed to procure alcohol somewhere, and the conference room's table ended up with beer, champagne, wine, gin, vodka, and other kinds of booze sitting on the top. A few from floor sixty had arrived; Reno, Arien and Elena went to the executive dining room again to do a food run. Reno was flirting wildly with Elena, Tseng was watching the merriment with narrowed eyes, Rude was steadily drinking and Arien was writhing in her chair laughing at a movie Zen had showed her. It involved a middle-aged man dressed as a banana, who proceeded to pour kerosene onto himself and then lighting himself on fire. If this was an accident she would not have laughed, but she had guessed – correctly – that he was well aware of the consequences and lit himself on fire anyway. Then he ran around the garden flapping his arms in mad panic. The sheer stupidity of the video made Arien laugh so much her eyes were tearing. Axil was behind her, pointing at the screen and commentating on every move the man made in an animated manner. Ivy joined them a few minutes later, invited by Arien after getting tired of Zen talking about the silver-haired woman for the entire duration of the conversation after the banana. Siva and Ivy immediately retreated to the corner, in what the men assumed to be the girl talk. Arien was talking with Axil and Zen who was staring at Ivy half the time, Tseng was talking with Rude, and Reno was still flirting with Elena.

At five even the model employee Tseng decided that no more work could be done. Elena and Rude left right after Tseng had declared the day's work to be over; Tseng left not long after that. Reno was just leaving when he noticed that Arien's jacket was still on the back of her chair. He stopped his gait, turned, and walked over to the door that connected to her office. Sure enough, the computer was still on, gently casting a glowing light into the darkness. The air smelled of her, the faint sandalwood, jasmine and rose. She seemed to have changed the shampoo; his nose detected the mint as well. His medication must have worn off, since his sense of smell was so heightened.

He heard the copier moving in the distance, and deduced that Arien probably was doing the final copying before she got ready to go home. Just as well. He decided to snoop. Her desk drawers yielded no treasure, but her bag did. He dug around, found spare clips for her pistols, a memo pad, a pen, sunglasses in a case, pain killers, gum, and a silver case with pink ribbon on it. He opened it, found a few things a woman might carry; a sanitary napkin, comb, tissues and a hand sanitizer on one side, makeup on the other side. The case itself was divided with a plastic divider.

A normal man might have blushed to see such things. Reno, having gone through seven girlfriends, uncountable number of one night stands, and quite a few raids and searches, was rather unperturbed. The make-up was simple, with beige eyeshadow, an eyeshadow brush, mascara, eyeliner, and a lipstick in Mideelian Rose. A nail file in a case. He returned the case back into the bag.

He opened the metal cabinet drawer. Files and catalogs filled the metallic cabinet. He closed it and was about to leave when something caught his eye.

It was between the wooden desktop and its plastic covering. It was a picture of him, sleeping, leaning against a wooden pillar. This must have been at the camp. His red hair melted into the red sky, and the periwinkle blue shirt with white pinstripes was dyed purple in the dying light in the photograph. Against him, back to back, sandwiching the pillar was Arien, dressed in a white blouse. The blouse itself was floaty and light, with flaring sleeves and a neckline that was so loose it was almost hanging off her shoulders.

That did it. Arien did not dislike him. That was why Ivy never answered him. Those bitches…

Light footsteps sounded, followed by a quiet beep and a click as the door opened. Arien came in, half a trot, humming a tune. Her earrings flashed in the darkness as it reflected the light from the distance. She bent over the desk, sorted the papers, then straightened, straight into Reno's arms. She bent down even further, but Reno was ready. Before he was thrown over, he yanked her backwards.

"Okay, Reno, can you let me go now?" said her cool voice.

"Nope."

"Really… Reno!" She spun to face him, only to have his mouth cover hers. She tried to protest, but as soon as she opened her mouth his tongue slithered in. She decided that despite what her friends had said, deep-kissing was rather disgusting. What was so romantic about sharing saliva? Ew.

The kiss did not stop. Arien could barely breathe; a white mist was covering her thoughts. She had kissed with Darren before, but never like this. Damn it, he was much taller than she had expected; she had realized that his "short" image was created by his extraordinarily bad posture with hunched back. Argh. She was five foot nine, so that made him… wait, she was wearing heels, he was still taller, so…

He was over six foot. An easy guess was six foot one. Greaaaaat. She knew Tseng and Co. were tall, but come on! With Reno hunched back he was about five ten. Standing straight up he was over six foot. Unfair.

He finally let her go. Arien gasped, breaths ragged. Her dark hair shook as she breathed even harder. She turned away from him, and felt his arms wrap around her. What on the planet was he thinking? Okay, calm down, Arien. Calm down…

Right. This was Reno's ploy to have a good night. Well, she was going to bid him good night, and then leave.

"Reno, please get off."

"Make me."

"WHAT?!" Arien spun to face him again, this time blocking his face with her hand. "Fine! I will!" Another attempt to throw him off. Another attempt thwarted. She glared at him; her defiance was so dear that it stirred his desires even more. Was she aware of what she was doing? Or was she a natural?

"Reno, this stopped being funny about three minutes ago. Please get off."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. Guess I'm just naturally good." She turned around again and struggled to flee, but a woman's strength was no match for a man's. Arien could easily hurl a regular man off of her, but Reno was a fully-trained agent. Hand to hand combat was a second nature for him.

"Reno! Please!" Her tone was getting desperate, choked with… tears, from the sounds of it. "You know I can't fight you off. Please, let go!"

Suddenly she was freed. She looked back at Reno, who was standing still. He looked… sad? No. Lonely? Not quite. What was that face? She wondered. Regret, guilt, lonesomeness… all those had mixed to create a painful expression that Reno wore on his face. Now that she was free, she relaxed a little. Suddenly she felt cold, and understood that the only things that separated them back then were a few layers of cloth. Now… a few layers of cloth and… air.

She shook her head, murdering the pity. All he wanted was a one night stand. And that she would not give. She wasn't worth much maybe, but she was worth more than that. She was worth a committed relationship. With proper affection.

Suddenly Reno started laughing. It was not sane, that laugh, but hysterical.

"Aha… ahahaha…" he laughed. She stood, dumbfounded. What was up with him?

"I'm… sorry," he said, still chuckling derisively. Derisive to whom? She had no idea. "I thought that maybe you understood, you know… not like me, perhaps, but maybe trust me… oh man, how wrong I was."

"Reno…"

"Nah. Never mind." He turned. "Well, I'm gonna go. Sorry I bothered you."

She watched as he walked away. There it was, the darkness she had sensed within him and herself the first time she had talked to him after she joined the Turks, a gaping hole that would not be filled. Darren had it, Reno had it, Tseng had it, so did she; it was a gaping hole created from guilt and loneliness, a self-imposed punishment of near-eternal solitude, the sense of unworthiness for love. How could they deserve someone's love if they had ridded others of their loved ones? The blood on her hand would not wash away… it would be there… forever and ever… condemning her to a solitary life.

Reno would not wash away the blood. But he would understand it, share the burden. The epiphany struck her like a lightening.

Without realizing, she was running. She ran after him, desperate. There was Reno, walking down the corridor, shoulders hunched, looking a little lonelier than usual, as if no amount of female affection could cure him.

"Reno!"

He stopped. Did not turn. As if he could not believe his ears, did not want to, yet did not want to acknowledge that it was all but a dream by turning and seeing an empty corridor. It was Reno's turn to feel a warm pair of arms around him. He felt her body, smaller than he had thought, her hair rustling, her cheek on his back.

"Reno… don't go," she begged. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"It's my fault, babe."

"No, it isn't. Not this time." She said it slowly, as if struggling to get the words out. "It's my fault. It's my fault."

"What is?"

"I couldn't trust you," she said, stammering. "I thought you were treating me like you did other women, like a… a plaything, a…" she struggled to find the precise word.

"One night stand."

She nodded. "Ivy told me you could be trusted, but then how was she to know? I'm sorry I couldn't trust you, I'm so sorry…"

He turned around. Held her by her shoulders. Looked into her eyes. She looked like a little girl who had just confessed that she had stolen all the cookies from a jar, frightened, awaiting judgment…

Yes, this was a judgment. He, any man who was loved, would turn into an almighty god, the judge, to pass out the sentence, and the woman, the judged, meekly awaiting judgment, hoping to the man in front of her to mete out a merciful sentence. Perhaps it was the same with the positions reversed; yes, she was a goddess, he the mere mortal, and now the goddess was before him, awaiting the adjudication, completely at his mercy.

He turned and faced her. At that moment the judgment was given. When he embraced her, she gave him no struggle, but remained in his arms. "I thought you didn't even notice me," Reno whispered in her ear.

"Wh… why?"

"You didn't even notice me flirting with Elena, did ya?"

"Yes, I did." Her tone was defiant. He smiled.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"Then why didn't you react?"

"Because…" She stopped. She did not want to tell him that she felt that if she reacted, she would be defeated by him, she would inadvertently show the she actually cared. So she turned away, had pretended not to look at him.

"Were you…"

"Reno…" she admonished.

"Jealous?" The word caressed her ear.

"No."

"You should probably control the pitch of your voice. It gets higher when you lie." Reno's body was warm, and she was suddenly acutely aware that he was a man, with the ability to plant a seed in her body, to make her bear a child. A wave ran through her. Darren had only very rarely touched her.

Another kiss, like a little peck, planted on the neckline. A small sigh escaped her mouth, as if she was holding it in anticipation. The fragrance of her hair tickled his nose, a soft fragrance that was barely noticeable.

Reno was surprised at himself. She was the last type of woman he went for. Strict, tense, with the proverbial stick up her ass, she was more of a hassle than fun. Her kind strictly required commitment. While not the kind to lose the head and come after him with a knife, her kind often ensured to make the man's life utter hell when dumped unfairly. She was, all in all, an unlovable creature who hardly smiled. Trigger-happy and prim.

So why had he fallen for her? He could not put a finger on it, except that he had seen the dedication and energy she spent on her work. If she spent the same kind of dedication on him… she was currently enslaving to her job, but then she would enslave to him. Be completely his. Would only respond to his touch. Would only think about him.

And what was that if not called domination? None had ever touched the Gunslinger, the closest anyone got was Darren and that was probably just hand-holding and juvenile kissing from the way the rumors sounded. She would be the premier conquest, the ultimate jewel, the blue poppy. He kissed her hair. "Let's go home, Arie," he whispered, to which she nodded.


	12. 11: Mind Desert

Katreda - Yeeees, but he may not know that. Arien, at least, suspects that this is all he will do to her. (Actually, if someone like Reno told me he wanted to go out with me I'd be suspicious as well.) I don't think Reno is specifically targeting Arien's virginity per se, but I have no doubt he'd think of it as a trophy at this time. Will he change? We shall see...

ZakuReno - Aww, thanks! Reno's not easy to write about, especially because his information is rather limited and I can't exactly make him the asinine bad guy. That, and I've gone way beyond "I love Reno forever" stage and am in the analysis stage. It's a bit easier since I do have someone who has a lot of similarities with him, but this really encourages me.

Echo - The dream was... weird. And I was much taller than he was. And he was yammering on about how I wasn't supposed to go this certain place because it was too dangerous or something. I did have a dream about Reno a few years ago, but that involved me tailing him and him spending 20 minutes at Dunkin' Donuts trying to decide on a donut.

Chapter 11: Mind Desert

Arien knew Reno well. Or she was supposed to. Ivy and Siva were like office talk radars, and she had heard a few things herself about the redhead including the bedroom liaisons between half the females in the building, the premiere occupant being Scarlett. So in hindsight, she should have asked to be dropped off at Ivy's and took herself home.

Of course not. Many a females would have dreamed to be Arien, finding Reno's attention an utter fairy tale. Arien was not among such. She was extremely bothered by the report from the Intel informing that the AVALANCHE were definitely plotting something… they just had no idea what. Now beyond the sleep threshold and hitting the adrenaline-loaded faux-alertness, Arien was asking Zen and Axil to follow up on the Intel report. She was extremely worried. So she did not even notice Reno playing the Speed King and the Highway Star much to the chagrin of other drivers. All she wanted to do was go home, turn on the TV for the first time in a month, watch the TV show that she had programmed to be recorded and had not gotten around to watching, flop back on her sofa, a glass of wine in hand. Maybe even eat dinner. Maybe, if Siva and Ivy did not have extended overtime tonight, they can go out tonight. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

"Hey, wanna go for a dinner?"

"…what?" Arien snapped back into reality. She needed to file her nails down again.

"I said, do you want to go for a dinner." Reno emphasized each word, obviously annoyed that she was in the la-la land while he was driving. "I'll buy," he added.

Arien opened her mouth, stopped, then clamped it shut again. All the rumors about Reno ran through her head. And about Scarlett. And about Reno's boxers. She grimaced. The answer was obvious.

"No."

"… and they have these amazing caviars and… wait." Reno stopped his blabbing, although he did not take his eyes off the road. "Did you just say no?"

"That's what I said."

"I know for sure that you don't have anything this evening," Reno snapped. Arien refrained from asking how he knew. If the Intel knew what Scarlett's underwear was this morning, the Turks could inform – if needed – what color underwear _Ivy_ was wearing. Most likely Reno already knew her menstrual cycle, the names of her former class rivals, her waist size and the brand of lipstick she liked.

"Are you wearing boxers?" Arien abruptly asked.

"Am I wearing what?"

"Your boxers. Underwear. Or whatever you wear." She replied, staring outside.

"Yeah. Wanna check? 'Course, you'd have to do the same for me…"

"Oh. So you must have lost your underwear at Scarlett's the day before yesterday. They really need to up the accuracy." She said coolly. "Why don't you invite Scarlett or any of the other office girls for dinner? Don't know about Scarlett but the others would love to have dinner with you."

Reno looked at her. "Are you pissed off at that?"

"Nope. It's not the first time I heard something of the kind." Arien looked around in alarm. "Reno, where are we?"

"Dinner," Reno replied. "Hey, why haven't we slept together yet?"

"Probably because I have standards, albeit the common misconception. Stop, Reno! Turn the car around! I want to go home!"

"Nope. We're gonna get dinner." He paused, yanking the stick. "Or I'll eat, and you can watch."

And that was something Arien hated to do.

The restaurant was not a burger joint or a seedy bar, despite Arien's fears. It was actually really normal. Costan from the looks of it, and apparently used to the Turks' blue, as none of the waiters flinched when they saw the particular jacket Arien was wearing.

The scene was date-y enough, with candles illuminating the tables with its faint light. The phones were on, on the table and ready to be grabbed when it rang; Reno was usually only reachable via his mobile, since he was very rarely in his office (and even when he was, he could never locate his phone in time), he only went back to his apartment to sleep either alone or with girls and he never bothered to answer the landline, and he was otherwise usually outside. After ordering a bottle of wine and the appetizers, Reno watched Arien as she turned off the beeper and checked the messages on her PDA. In the wavering flames of the candlelight, she looked enigmatic, with her olive-shaped eyes and her dark raven hair. Her lips were full, usually in a straight line but curving into an occasional smile when she saw something that pleased her.

"Whatcha smiling about?" Reno asked.

"Siva." She replied simply as she put her PDA away. "Providing the latest piece of gossip."

"Ah. The girls putting the guys on the dissection table." He nodded. He knew. He should know it well. He knew just how many times he himself had been put on the dissection table, each move, each gaze dissected to analyze the meanings that he had never meant. The girl to whom he had been sending messages was right in front of him, clearly not getting them. It was like she had a personal barrier and everything flew over her head.

Reno extended his hand, touched her chin, raised it to his eye level. Her eyes narrowed curiously, then returned to the normal size. They were just a guy and a girl, eating dinner. For now.

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, then turned to see the waiter carrying the appetizers to their table. Arien answered her phone while Reno started on his dinner. Tearing the bread, he dug into the shrimps. When he looked up from the plate, he saw that Arien was smiling again. It must be one of her friends; he could not imagine any news from Heidegger or Scarlett or Rufus that would make her smile like that.

"Yeah, I'm eating dinner. I know, rare occasion." Arien motioned with her other hand to keep a piece of bread for her. "What? No, I'm not alone. I'm… with, err…" She stopped. "Yeah. No, he offered to buy! Actually, he said he'll eat and I can watch if I preferred that…" At that moment Reno abducted the phone.

"Yo."

"Oh, hi Reno." It was Ivy. "Listen. Be gentle."

"What?"

"Just because I told you to take two steps, it doesn't mean you can go all the way without warning her, alright?" Ivy was saying. "She'll be fine if you warn her, but spring a surprise and she'll turtle."

"Okay."

"And don't let her stick you into the friend zone. She's really quick to do that, and once you're in that zone of hers you're stuck there pretty much forever."

Reno stopped. He had never been stuck in the friend zone before. He had heard stories of it, the dreaded trench, the big black hole, the soulless, god-forsaken hell-pit where men – and sometimes women – with lonely hearts went to die. But for him, the friend zone was about as real as the maelstrom vortex that apparently existed in the north where men fell in it, had their testicles ruptured by some weird monsters and died a screaming, agonizing death.

From the way Arien behaved, it was very likely that she was prone to sticking men into the dreaded death trench. Without even realizing. The worst kind, since they weren't conscious about their erratic behavior. Well, as far as he wasn't in there already, he had ways to stay out of it.

"Gotcha. Thanks." He hung up without waiting for Arien's permission. What Ivy said was a go for going after Arien to all the way, meaning that she trusted him. The best way to win a girl was to win her friend first.

As soon as she saw Reno getting off the phone, she extended her hand to get it back. He placed the phone on it. "Excuse me," she said, standing up, grasping her phone. "I think there's something in my eye. I'm going to go check."

Without even giving him a chance, she promptly disappeared into the back after paying her part of the bill. From which she never returned.

* * *

The night passed quietly for the Turks, each in their own bed, some sleeping, some tossing around, and some in deep thought.

He had completely forgotten the promised liaison with Scarlett, and was woken up very rudely with the phone jangling next to him. Groggy and groaning, he reached for it without even looking, head stuffed in his pillow. "What?"

"Why weren't you over yesterday?" came the screeching voice of a woman. Reno was seriously getting tired of her screeches and her bitch slaps. Sure, he liked an occasional softcore S&M once in a while, but he wanted to be the one in control, thank you very much. And Scarlett's bitch slaps hurt. A lot of the uninformed firmly believed that Reno's twin crescent moons on the cheeks were not tattoos, as he had maintained, but repeated gashes from Scarlett's fingernails.

God. Arien was the premiere bitch of Midgar. After putting up that innocent, "I just couldn't trust you, I'm sorry" show, she had promptly left him alone at the restaurant. If he did something wrong she should have told him… but no, she just walked out. She was probably laughing at him this very moment.

"RENO!" came Scarlett's screech. Reno wanted to die. He had a severe hangover, and apparently women were his bad luck these days. First he gets stood up, then his old fuck buddy is screeching at him at an ungodly hertz and decibel, and at this rate he would not be stuck in the friend zone, but rather the enemy territory. That is, if he didn't kill her first. Which he might do. He was pissed off at her. If he could, he would have emptied her damn Sig's magazine into her head.

He hit END, cutting Scarlett off mid-screech. He buried his head deeper into his pillow, nursing a throbbing head.

* * *

"YOU STOOD HIM UP?!"

Ivy shouted, and Arien cowered. Ivy very rarely lost her temper. Arien appeared not to lose her temper, but in reality, she did quite often. She just didn't show it, withdrawing into her shell to cool off the burning anger and turning completely cold on the cause of her fury. Wincing, she returned the golden tube back into the slot on the make-up counter. Suddenly her dinner of tagliatelle with porcini, chanterelle and prosciutto wasn't sitting too well in her stomach. Being the type who forewent dinner during work days and went straight to bed, it required company – in this case, Ivy – to go and eat during the evening. The restaurant was on the high-end but quiet and small enough.

"You're right," Ivy said angrily. "You don't deserve Reno. He's too good for you!"

Arien jerked at that. "Since when did you turn a turncoat?!"

"I didn't, I'm just pissed at you!"

"You don't know Reno! He probably has bastard sons all over Midgar!" That was a lie. Turks were generally sterile, or had extremely low fertility. But she kept that quiet. Ivy didn't need to know about it. "For Ramuh's sake, Ivy! His bedroom's busier than a Friday night bar, and his bed is the newest hotspot in the town, it's always open and it's never empty! And you are screaming at me because I left?"

"This is Reno we're talking about. He's not a monster."

"Oh right. He's just the infidel villain."

The two women, best friends, glared at each other. Arien's dark hair covered her body, and Ivy's silver ringlets were bunched up on top of her head. They were the stark opposites standing next to each other at the make-up counter in a department store. One was petite, the other tall. One was in a dress, the other in a grey romper suit and black tights. Her boots were clunky, chunky things, the 14 eye boot style in black denim with chunky, high heels and plenty of zipper decorations. Arien had found it in her wardrobe several weeks ago when she was looking for a spare pair of loafers, and wondered where she had acquired them. She was penchant to heels, yes, but this was something that she'd admire and not buy.

"You know," Ivy said, "Reno isn't the evil sex lord you think he is." She rubbed blush onto her hand. "How does that look?"

Arien glanced at it. "It makes you look like you're flushed," she said dryly. "Anyway, about Reno. He wasn't a sex lord, and that's why he lost his boxers in Scarlett's bed." She snorted.

"Wake up, Arie! You had no right to stand him up. Be honest? Yes. Run away like that? No!"

"What was I supposed to say?! Hi Reno, I still think you're full of shit so I'm leaving?! He might have gone postal and started shooting everybody!"

"Oh, so you were so concerned about the public safety, weren't you?"

Arien stood up. "I'm going home," she said coldly. She started toward the exit, but Ivy grabbed her arm.

"No, you aren't."

"Oh, yes I am."

"You can't leave, Arie. I know you."

After a staredown, Arien lost and picked up another tube of lipstick. She tried it onto the back of her hand, decided it was too orange, and returned it to the stand. "I'm not saying I'm sorry to Reno," she said stubbornly. "No freakin' way."

"I'm not telling you to do that. I know that's impossible." Ivy shrugged. "Hey, how do you feel about gloss?" She waved a wand under Arien's nose.

"For office? I'll probably get charged with inappropriate dress by Heidegger." Arien rolled her eyes. "He tried to tell Elena off for wearing beige eyeshadow."

"My goodness, he really has a problem."

"He's just a lecher, I think. Not in the kind of open manner like Reno, but more in a closeted, and therefore filthier, old man kind of way."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, Reno's… open. If he wants to see you naked he'll probably accost you and try to rip your shirt open." She smeared peach colored eyeshadow onto her finger, then onto her hand.

"Is that from personal experience?" Ivy was now trying on a plum colored lipstick.

"Somewhat." She started applying the same color onto her eyelid. "Heidegger will probably put a spy camera in the women's toilet."

"That's disgusting!"

"That's Heidegger." She started on her other eyelid. Her phone jangled the company ring tone, and Arien hastily dug around to get it. "Hello?"

"Come into office in fifteen minutes," barked Tseng.

"Er, sir…"

"I know for sure that you are in town. An emergency mission." Tseng hung up. Arien stared at the phone angrily. There goes her holiday. And why did everyone in Midgar seem to know her schedule? This was seriously getting annoying.

"Company?" Ivy asked, looking at herself in the mirror.

"I'm sorry, Ivy. Gotta go."

"Is Reno going to be there?"

Arien was just leaving, but she turned; her hair whirled in the air with her. With a black felt beret, navy pea coat, and black fingerless gloves half tugged on, she looked as if she was a young girl.

"I sure as hell hope not," she replied. Then, with hasty clicks of her heels, Arien was gone.

* * *

"This. Fucking. Better. Be good."

Arien heard the voice, identified it immediately, and considered turning around and leaving for a moment. Then she braced herself, and walked into the conference room, well aware that she looked rather out of character in her romper suit get-up.

Tseng was there in a sweater and dark slacks, looking annoyed. Rude, the only one who had reasonable amount of sanity left despite being in close proximity to the redhead who had apparently lost "it" when he had joined the Turks, was nowhere to be seen. Reno, on the other hand, looked like a semi-fashionable hoodlum. The black eight-inch motorcycle boots with soft dark-dyed jeans tucked in, black leather biker jacket, the grey scarf wrapped around his neck, the black shirt underneath, all those made him look a little slovenly, as if he had not taken care with what he was wearing and threw random anything on. Yet he somehow pulled it off.

"Did you impress the guy with those legs?" Reno asked acerbically as Arien took her coat off.

"I'm amazed that you wore so many layers on your date. Not exactly the easiest outfit to hop out of."

"Will you two quit?" Tseng barked. "This is an emergency. Do you know what's happening next week?"

"Um, our supposed break?" Reno replied in tired tones. "I'm guessing that's gonna be cancelled."

"No, just shortened. Apparently the president had a… rather romantic night with one of the models in the city."

"What else is new?" Reno said, yawning.

"Well, we have no idea who she is. Your job, DeVir, Reno…" he turned to her, who backed. "Is to find out who it was."

"With all due respect, sir, may I ask how?"

"By posing as one of them, of course."

Arien groaned, and looked up in the air resolutely. First she was playing prostitute, now she was playing model. This was almost as bad as entering a beauty pageant. On the other hand, Reno was staring at Tseng as if he had just proposed that Reno'd turn himself into a kangaroo and serve himself up in a nice, juicy steak.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all. Being in the inner circuit usually brings out more information."

"What's wrong with a nice big gun?!"

"That tends to render people senseless and blubbering," Tseng replied coldly.

"Fashion week begins tomorrow," Arien mumbled.

"I knew we won't have our break. I knew it."

"The week begins tomorrow." Tseng, ignoring the angry blames, glanced at the two, who were standing dumbly. "I've already gotten you two into the shows. There's an afterparty, so make sure you don't miss them either. Dismissed."

"Wait!" Arien stopped. "We're just in one show, right?"

Tseng stared at her incredulously. "You will be in as many shows as required to find out who the girl is."

Tseng left. Arien and Reno stared at each other.

"Do I look anorexic or something?" Arien asked.

"Do I?"

"No."

A moment of silence. "I… I'm sorry I stood you up," Arien said timidly.

"Yeah. That was one hell of a shitty thing to do." He turned away. Arien's temper flared. Usually she managed to keep her anger in check, but Reno seemed to manage to hit all the right buttons to severely piss her off.

"And you sleeping with Scarlett while supposedly going out with me isn't?" She said through clenched teeth. "Oh, right. You don't consider sleeping with whores cheating."

"We never went out," Reno replied coldly. Arien faltered in her verbal crossfire, but she quickly regained her stance.

"Then why the hell am I here, being so bothered by what I'd done?! I was clever to stand you up, you bastard!"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask yourself?"

Her eyes flashed, a clear danger sign. It was rare for her to show her emotions in such a raw manner; usually she'd pent it up, walk away, silently fuming inside but not letting it on to the outer world. He _was _making progress. Now, if he could just continue doing this without getting Arien into an emotional overload…

Because at this rate, there'd be at least one dead body on this floor tonight. If lucky, possibly two.

Damn. The amount of energy and thought spent on her made her the most expensive girlfriend he had ever had.

In the meanwhile, Arien's voice had toned down to silence, but her eyes told him that her anger was just growing. Exponentially. And at an alarming rate.

"You really are a bitch, you know that? And worse than Scarlett. You first put up that fucking "I'm innocent, I just couldn't trust you" show, then you stand the guy up, then you say sorry and string him along. For Shiva's sake, I'd rather have Scarlett as a girlfriend than you, and she's so useless she only functions as men's sex toilet. But hell, you probably can't even do that." He glanced at her, whose stare was now so vicious that she probably could have killed people with it.

_Come on, Arie. Shout. I'm talking to you._

But she did not. With a grimace and firm set in her jaw, she turned on her heels and walked out, the only indication of her anger being the very loud bang of the door.

* * *

"So what are you going to do?"

Arien speared a sliced pear. "I think I'll do server conference with him." She chewed on the fruit quietly, then swallowed. "I need your help, though."

"Whatever for?"

"You've been to a few of these shows. You know what goes on during them better than I do." She speared a peach and stared at it. She had not told Ivy why she was doing this, just that Reno and she had been entered into the shows and had not been notified until today. Ivy had not asked too much about it. All for the wiser. Knowing too much about what the other hand was doing in Shinra Company sometimes got you drop off the face of the planet one dark night. She plopped the peach into her mouth.

"I think you should invite him over."

"After the stare-down death match of the century? Did you have a big plate of crazy for dinner?"

"Well, I'll be there, so there won't be any visual death bullets flying across the room."

Arien stared at her in disbelief. "Of course there will be! Reno has never cared for propriety."

"You sure know a lot about him, despite you disliking him so much."

"I kind of have to. He's my boss."

"And how do you propose working with him after the break?"

If Ivy thought this would stop her dead in her tracks, it didn't. "I'd be professional," Arien replied. Of course. Being the cool professional was never the problem for Arien. Not being one was. After the years at the Academy, she seemed to have forgotten how to take off the mask at the end of the night. And perhaps that was only natural. In order to excel at the Academy, one needed a mindless conformity or the pretense of it. And while it was possible to require physical obedience from Arien, mental version of it was almost impossible. She rarely said it, but that did not mean she did not have an opinion. Rather, she generally kept it to herself.

She was like that. Normal people released half the energy to their exterior and half into their interior. Reno seemed to release three-fourths to the exterior, and the rest to himself. Arien seemed to release four-fifths into herself, barely generating any energy to be released to the external environment. Any emotion recoiled back into herself until her dam broke.

"Just call him, will you?" Ivy handed the phone over.

"Fine, but you're talking. I'm not here. I don't exist in this apartment." Arien picked up her wallet and her coat, but not her overnight bag. She quickly dialed, then handed the phone back.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting some mineral water," came back the reply from the front doorway. Ivy waited for him to pick up. Arien's pride was really getting in the way, she thought. It wasn't that she disliked him – Ivy doubted Arien had enough free time to think about Reno that often to reach the point of dislike – but she just liked her pride much more. But at this rate, Arien was going to die alone. She seemed unconcerned, but Ivy was.

"Hello?" said a bored voice. Ivy snapped back into reality. If Arien didn't like the way this was going, well, too bad. Sometime in life one had to find a partner. It was about time for Miss DeVir, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

The door was unlocked when Arien came back. She had just put the water bottles on the kitchen counter when she heard Reno's voice sifting through from the living room. She was about to leave when Ivy came in, Reno behind her, both cheerful and looking very intimate. A savage, negative emotion flared up inside the Turk, which was very quickly squashed with reason. "Hi," she said, a trifle awkwardly.

"Hi," Ivy greeted back. Reno's hand was on her shoulder. "Did you get the water?"

"Yep." She smiled. She knew it would look natural. She had spent long years wiping expressions off her face. She was good at this.

It was easy to wipe emotions off the face. It was like slipping into another outfit. Raw and naked, you'd be feeling something, but then you'd slip into the happy outfit and you'd be fooling yourself into thinking that you were happy. She had kept a neutral face when Darren died, came into work the next day, acted as if nothing had happened. Yep, this was nothing.

Ivy and Reno were looking very intimate. Arien decided to leave. She had a vague feeling that this was all just a ruse, but she decided against it. If Ivy knew all the risks of the redhead and still wanted to date him, then so be it. It was her choice.

"Hey, I think I forgot my wallet," she said, feeling around. "I'm going to go get it."

"Be careful," came the chorus behind her. She smiled, waved, and closed the door behind her. Jamming her hands into her pockets, she walked to the bus station, hailed it and got onto it. She'd text Ivy in a few minutes, tell her something came up and she had to go home. She slipped on her earphones, switched on the portable in her pocket. She thought she'd feel jealousy, anger, the sense of betrayal, but felt nothing.

Her mind was a dry desert. And Reno's affections were like throwing Dixie cups of water at it.


	13. 12: Viva la Couture

Argh! Sorry for the delay! My power supply for my laptop died a few weeks ago and it took ages to find one that won't fry my laptop and was under fifty bucks. And since I didn't back-up my documents on another PC, the half-written chapter sat in the defunct laptop for the duration of the power-supply outage. Anyway...

Katreda - Dixie cups are these minuscule cups that are about the size of shot glass. They're made of paper, and I've only seen them at garden parties and kiddie parties. They're about a swallow, and I make soaps in them (they're really cute because they're about the size of a toddler's fist).

ZakuReno - I keep finding conflicting information, but the only official information I got about him is that A, he's the fastest, and B, his appearance. Otherwise all I know is that his physical ability's above average (but he was beaten to a pulp by Cloud and Co. in the first battle so how's that possible?)

Echo - Haha, your dreams are amusing. Recently I've been having more realistic dreams, no more Death the Kid and other 2D characters. I did have a dream where Reno was dressed as a clown at a masquerade (I hate clowns, btw... creepy as hell). Maybe my life's getting boring.

* * *

Chapter 12: Viva la Couture

It was fashion week, when the members de jour of the Midgar society convened to make sure that nobody forgot them and they were seen in close proximity of each other, just to make sure that they basked in each other's glories. White tents were pitched up in the arena, PR girls were running around in black suits and heels yelling and shouting into their phones and their clip-on microphones, low-class socialites were trying to find the A-listers, and the A-listers were discreetly being led into backstage to "hang out" a few minutes before the shows started. People were getting ushered into the tents, being seated, the make-up artists were running around doing last minute touch ups, hair stylists were neurotically worrying over a stray strand of hair, and the designer was walking around checking to see how the models looked.

Arien was standing in what felt like a suit of cardboard, as three staffs circled around her like a tiger, checking. She had been backstage for three hours now, getting in at seven o'clock so the show could start at ten. Before that, she had to go to the caster to prove that she didn't walk like a wrestler but more like a model. As a Turk she was used to using muscles that not many laymen used, and was therefore having no trouble mimicking that particular walk. Arien wondered just how much the company was paying to get the two into the shows, and also why they weren't doing more backstage jobs; then she realized that the easiest job on the show was walking.

The suit was made of leather and blue velvet. She looked into the full-length mirror, yawning slightly. Her eyes were darkened, her mouth painted crimson; her long hair was swiped back, gelled down. Her heels were nearly defying the laws of physics. She had stayed up for the most of the night the night before the first show, watching shows and trying to figure out what was going to happen the next day, while Reno probably scored another notch on his bedpost. She assumed he had so many notches on there it was basically whittled down into a toothpick.

Thinking about Reno made her frown. They had remained cool partners, keeping distance with each other, and Arien believed that this little tryst was over. She was surprised to feel a twinge of regret, but immediately shook it off. She needed to concentrate on this one; chatting people up was not her forte. She wasn't the kind who could coerce a doorman into talking about his kids fifteen minutes after meeting. She had talked to two-thirds of the girls in the show, and so far, none of them even knew anything about the incident. Reno wasn't due in until two hours later. This would be her stage. She walked to the doorway as the man began to usher the girls to form a line, going over the conversations in her head, trying to find a lead. This was her fourth day, and so far, nothing had come up. The girls were just about as airheaded as she had guessed, but they had no lead.

The harsh electronica beat down upon her as girls ahead of her left steadily. She could see the harsh spotlights beating down upon the stage from above, flashes from the camera crew.

"Okay… go." The man standing by the doorway told her, and she began the steps, going over the conversations in her head, not really caring about the camera people running around the trenches like lost pigs and the flashes of light. She stopped, posed, then turned, walking back at a steady pace.

* * *

"This is the gayest thing I've ever done," Reno complained.

"You mean, you haven't tried it up the rear end yet?" Arien eyed him. "I see."

The lunch was purely business. Arien recounted the conversations she had engaged people in; the recordings were already transmitted to the server. Nothing had come up during the morning. Arien chewed on the chicken as Reno recounted the conversations.

"I mean, it's like a fucking gay parade. Actually, it was a fucking gay parade. Everyone back there was gay or bi." Reno shoveled some filet mignon into his mouth.

"I see." She had long ago learned the art of filtering information from Reno's ravings. The past five minutes of his blab could be summarized into one sentence: he had no lead either. She wondered wearily when this would end. Would it end? Did it ever? She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Hey, are you listening?"

"Yes," she lied automatically. "So no lead?"

"Nope."

Arien yawned, fingering the materia in the bracelet. The problem was finding the girl and bringing her in alive. She had no moral qualms about offing the poor girl – after all, she was surrounded by what seemed to be trigger-happy psychopaths, and hell, she was probably one herself – but bringing her in, alive, without being seen was quite another problem. The easiest was nighttime abduction, but those models flitted from continent to continent like intercontinental hookers with passports. It was probably for the best if they tagged her before she went onto an aircraft. The problem was, the girl had booked an open ticket, and the Turks had no idea about her itinerary.

She looked at her mobile. "I have to go," she said, slapping down some bills to cover her portion of the check. Reno watched her as she left, pensive. She had been wearing a subtly heady fragrance, a mix of rose and vanilla and leather that was tipping him over the edge. He wondered why, then realized that his medication must have been wearing off. He sniffed, then swallowed a pill and spritzed the nasal spray up his nostrils. Hojo had really outdone himself. This wasn't just acute senses, this was pure overload. He remembered her legs as she walked out the restaurant, encased in black tights. Red belt. A slight smile. He closed his eyes, feeling fatigued. Being around her always made him tense, keeping himself in check while trying to read the subtle changes that flickered across her face as her moods changed.

In the meanwhile, Arien was rather unconcerned with her partner's well-being. She was being passed around the staff like some kind of a hot potato while they prodded and painted her like some kind of an undiscovered artform. She remembered her days when she had secretly yearned to join the throng of walking coat hangers with nothing but air between their ears, and shuddered. Was she really desiring this? What was she at age sixteen, a complete, blathering idiot?

Probably.

Two hours passed quickly, and someone was yelling ten minutes. There was a woman – an assistant designer, perhaps – who was hovering around her body, pinning the last bit of the fabric around the torso. She had not gone to the fitting and therefore the clothes were not the best fit.

The hour passed in a head-spinning dash, and then she was taking off the clothes. She was just in bra and jeans when a girl – her name was Becca – retched and dashed off. Just then, Tseng's voice barked in her ear.

"DeVir! Got the name. Becca Navlova, age…" She did not quite catch the age, but was dashing out, her bracelet clattering, pulling on a cardigan, hissing into the earpiece at Reno to get his ass over, she had found her. Much sooner than expected, Reno arrived, also topless, apparently in middle of changing, from the opposite side of the tent. Apparently he was in the men's show the same time she was in the women's. They went at her from the opposite directions, shouting the trigger for the materia to activate. A full blast of green and silver hit the girl and Becca slumped onto the floor, unconscious.

"Alright, what materia did you use?" Reno asked sourly.

"Um, poison."

The girl was oozing pus from every pore of her body while being encased in a full six inches of ice. Neither of them wanted to touch the girl. Sighing, Arien pulled out her phone and dialed. The retrieval team can come and get the girl, but she had a vague feeling that although Tseng had clearly stated to bring her in alive and they had done just that, they were going to catch utter hell.

They looked at each other, slightly bewildered.

"Shit."

* * *

Tseng's face looked as if someone had stuck a whole lime in his mouth as he glared at the two former models standing in front of him. Both were taller than he was, but he still had the power to make them feel smaller. They were entirely inappropriately dressed. The girl was dressed in tight jeans, a bra and a white cardigan. The boy was dressed in nothing but jeans.

"I'd ask you two to explain, but I know you'd come up with a sufficiently clever answer to avoid more paperwork, so I will not," Tseng said in a voice that could have curdled milk.

"You said to bring her in alive. Which we did," Reno replied.

"I thought you had enough senses to take that as alive and kicking, not alive and frozen inside a glacier! I'm not surprised at you, Reno, but really DeVir, I've expected more from you."

If Arien had felt any reaction to that statement, she did not let it on. In the meanwhile, Reno reacted.

"Yeah. And we thought we'd get a week off, sleeping instead of participating in gay parades."

"What was that?"

Arien's elbow jabbed sharply into his ribs.

The helicopter ride home was silent, and the drive home was even quieter. But when they reached their apartment complex, Reno stopped Arien, who was already marching off.

"Hey, can I come up to your room? I need to talk to you," he said softly.

"Um, alright."

Arien's apartment was as organized as his was not. Beige, white, stainless steel and black were the primary colors used in the living room, each piece selected with care, placed with thought. The kitchen was spacious and it was rather obvious that she used it often. "Want anything to drink?" She asked as she walked into the kitchen. Reno sat down on the sofa. The room was warm enough, despite the lack of his shirt. "Wine? Coffee?"

_I'm gonna need booze to do this,_ Reno told himself. "Wine."

She returned a minute later, two glasses in her hands. Deep red liquid filled each glass. She handed one to Reno, then sat down perpendicular to where he was sitting. "So," she said, crossing her legs. His eyes roamed around her body. He mentally stripped her, found her naked body pleasing. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, snaking down her shoulder and spilling down her front. He tasted the wine. It was slightly sweet, the taste of autumn, with all the berries and nuts of the fall harvest. He placed the glass on the table.

"About that night…"

"Which night? She asked back innocently, but he knew damn well she knew exactly which night was the topic of the discussion.

"The night Ivy invited me over."

"Oh. That night." She sipped her wine, then placed it on the coaster on the glass coffee table. "What about it?"

"I forgot to do something."

"What?"

"This." The kiss came swiftly but refused to leave. Their body temperatures melted into one. Holding down her hands – her wrists were tiny – with one hand, he forced her to stay in the position with the other. Their scents mixed.

"Re…" Arien managed a syllable before Reno pushed her down to the sofa. Her cardigan had been pulled up to show her midriffs during the struggle. They twisted and turned for a few minutes, then suddenly Reno felt their positions switch. Arien had suddenly pushed against him as she twisted her body, rolling both of them over off the sofa and onto the narrow strip of the carpeted floor between the sofa and the table. Now she was on top. And angry.

"I have had enough!" Arien shouted. "Enough of your antic and your tomfoolery! If you do that again, I'll make sure you're sterile for the rest of your life!"

"Arie…"

"SHUT UP!" She shouted again. "You…"

Arien never got to finish the sentence, for at that very moment two shots crashed through the window. Reno had managed to grab her and roll over, shielding her with his body. Her hair spread onto the carpet; she acutely felt the warmth, the slight sweat, the flesh on her own. She felt her heartbeat and his.

"You okay?"

"You're not," she retorted. A bullet had grazed his side, and was now bleeding, a deeper crimson than his hair.

"Yeah, this ain't nothin'." He paused. "Is someone trying to kill you?"

"Not that I know of. This is the first." She rolled off. "Can you sit still for a moment?"

"Sure."

He watched as Arien crouched and crawled into the kitchen – it was too dangerous to stand up just yet – and come back with a box. She opened it; he saw a small surgical kit encased neatly inside.

"Lie down on the side. The opposite side."

He obeyed and she tended to his wound despite his protest. She made him sit up and wrapped a bandage around his abdomen; yet he noticed that even when she was finished her hand lingered on his body, as if she was not aware of her desires.

He pulled her down on top of him. "Do you believe me now?" He asked.

"Believe what?"

"That this isn't some game." He whispered in her ear. "I took a fucking bullet for you. It's your turn to take something for me."

She jerked. "So you want it as a payment, do you?"

"No. I want you to take something for me. Out of your own will."

Her kiss was timid, frightened, but it was a move and he seized the chance. Not willing to let go – or perhaps he was no longer able to – he devoured her mouth feverishly. He felt her shoulder blades under his hands, the slight bumps of her ribs.

"Arien…" her name sounded huskily sweet.

There was no stopping. There was no hesitation. As if in a drunken dance, they moved through the rooms, their bodies touching. He could not help but feel her body, the supple skin. They stumbled into her bedroom. Reno was still kissing her when she bounced onto the bed. He came on top of her, the bandage unwinding, his wound already healed to a faint scar. She saw his eyes, usually sardonic and cynical, driven wild, starving, wanting.

The two cups holding her breasts fell away, tossed into the corner of the room to be forgotten. She shivered in the chill of the room, her skin bare. His hands enticed, teased, cajoled her, and she suddenly felt frightened at the foreign sensation burning her.

This was not authentic, not the true love she was looking for. Like a synthetic ruby, she knew it was fake. But she could not stop, and he seemed to have no will to do so. His hands roamed, his mouth caressed her neck.

Even as she warmed from his body heat, she could feel herself freeze, frozen to the core. This man did not love her. Unseen by the redhead, a tear rolled down her cheek, bitter and derisive.

* * *

Reno watched, naked, as the woman slept. Her breaths were even, undisturbed; her long lashes cast shadows across her cheeks. Spent and looking a little abused – he really could not hold himself back – he noticed just how thin she was. Usually hidden under the white shirt and blazer, he had realized for the first time that she looked tiny. Her arms could easily be snapped in two; both her wrists could fit in his hand. Her collarbones were clearly visible. No wonder Tseng picked her to go undercover; Elena was too short and did not have Arien's physique. He knew that she had passed all the physicals to get into the squad, but she looked delicate, thin-boned.

The next morning, Arien was gone. There was no note, no message left for him; it was nine in the morning, and was therefore rather obvious that she had left not to run some errand but on purpose. He had a feeling what she was thinking; yawning, he decided to negate her guesses and intentions. And so when she had come back at four in the afternoon, Reno was sitting on the sofa.

He saw her before she saw him. Dressed in a denim dress and black tights, she looked younger than her age. Her hair was held by a headband; she had a few grocery bags in her hand as she struggled to get her shoes off.

"What are you doing here?" She exclaimed. "I left so you could leave without causing a scene!"

"What!" Reno stood up; he was now dressed in a T shirt as well as jeans. "I told you, I'm serious!"

"And I'm sure you've never said _that_ to any other girl before." She retorted again sarcastically. "I'm actually amazed you even bothered to stay around. I thought you were the kind who dashed off two minutes after you came."

Reno frowned at her crass answer. "Where did you go?"

"I went out for a brunch with Siva." She started putting food away in the refrigerator. Just then, the doorbell rang.

"That'd be the people fixing the windows," Arien said to no one in particular, heading over to the door to open it. Two men came in, carrying window panes.

"How long is that gonna take?" Reno asked wearily.

"Not long. They just need to change the window panes, and that's just snapped in… thank you, boys." She nodded as the handymen removed the old windows and fixed the new ones in. "Here's a tip." She handed over two envelopes, and the men were gone. "Right, now do tell me just why you're still here."

"Because I'm hungry."

Arien raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm really serious. I told you, I don't shit where I eat. Fucking you then running for it is just that."

She scrunched up her eyebrows skeptically, but said "Fine…"

"I'll take you out for dinner."

"I won't be eating dinner for four more hours. I don't eat dinner usually." She walked into the kitchen. "I'm guessing you're hungry right now."

"You guess right."

"I'll make you something really quick to keep you going 'til six. Then we can go for dinner."

Arien quickly made an egg salad sandwich; Reno ate without a fuss. He was not a fussy eater to begin with.

Reno returned to his apartment to change, came back a few minutes later, dressed slightly better in black turtleneck. She was still dressed in a denim dress; the clock struck six.

The restaurant was Mideelian, small and unobtrusive, tucked away in a corner of sector six. Candles lit the tables, white linen and white plates, silver forks and knives, crystal wine glasses. Arien ordered rose champagne for aperitif, and smiled when she saw the pink bubbles in the flutes. She suddenly looked up to see him smiling at her, and frowned.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Well, you." He sipped the champagne, found it too sweet to his taste.

"Why?"

"I just realized I haven't gone to a date without planning to get a girl in bed for… oh, dunno, a really long time." _And I just was surprised to see you smile like that, _Reno wanted to add. The Arien he knew was cool and collected, guns blazing, aggressive and focused. Yet she was so girlish here, relaxed, easy to smile.

He had fallen for her. Not because she was pretty, or clever, or was just a good sport in bed. But she was just… a good fit. He could depend on her, knew that she would be there, grumbling, frowning, but always there for him. She used no trickery on him, no seduction, just was herself without giving any excuses. Her drive, her focus, her passion… what a dedication that would be, if the objective was to be him! With her, he could play his cards, feel the thrill of an equal match.

The garcon came, dressed in the traditional style with white apron and a tie. "May I take your order?" he asked politely.

Reno gestured her to order; his Mideelian sucked to the point nobody understood him.

"Escargot en cocette for me, Fondue Savoyarde for him," she said coolly.

"And for the main course?"

"Steak Frites with Roquefort butter for him, Coq au Vin for me." She closed the menu, handing it to the waiter. Reno handed the menu as well.

The dinner arrived just as Reno was taking a call. She sat, waiting, as he slipped his phone back into the case and then back into the pocket. "Tseng?" She asked nonchalantly as she picked up her knife.

"Yeah. A new assignment." He dug into the steak.

"Now?"

"Nah. When we go back."

The two continued, Reno trying to play footsie and Arien stolidly ignoring it. After the dessert, Reno paid the bill – Arien made no response to that whatsoever, except a thank you – and drove home. An ordinary date for an extraordinary couple.

The break passed in calm. Arien spent most of the days sleeping, sometimes seeing her friends. Reno spent most of his holiday sleeping or seeing alcohol. As Elena had said once, "Reno sees his best friend at the bottom of the bottle." Nobody really understood that what he sought at the bottom of the bottle was not friendship, but oblivion, and that as years passed by forgetfulness became more difficult. Memories kept piling up like dust, and he was getting more tolerant to alcohol day by day.

It was the last day of the holiday, and the clock was striking seven. Reno was just coming out of the liquor shop – the high end liquor shops were located in the malls so it would not get robbed blind – when he saw a familiar figure. The silver hair, the petite frame. Ivy.

"Ivy!"

The woman turned, showing a face that was so elfin and doll-esque that he wondered if she had any cosmetic surgery. "Hi, Reno. How's it going?"

"Okay."

"Where's Arien?"

"Dunno." He shrugged.

"You two aren't fighting still, are you?"

"Nope." How does one fight when one has not talked to the other for three days? He looked into Ivy's brown eyes.

"That's good, then. Say, I'm heading over to hers, do you want to come?"

"Nah. That's okay."

"Alright, then. See you around." With a casual toss of head, Ivy went her way. Reno stood, wondering why he had not went for Ivy, but her best friend. Ivy was gentle, sweet, kind, delicate… and Arien was the opposite. Well, Arien was just as thin-boned, but she did not have the sweetness Ivy possessed in abundance. Then he remembered the tears he saw, the flash of smile. He left, sighing.

* * *

"I have absolutely no idea what's going on in his head."

Ivy laughed. The eternal query the women made, and never got it answered… women will never understand what men thought, and vice versa. Arien sat, looking glum as she sipped her tea. The tea had a chocolatey aroma, with honeybush and rosebuds. Arien was on her diet again – she always went on a diet when she felt her life out of control – and that meant no coffee or sweet drinks. Ivy had added sweetener to her tea liberally, but Arien seemed to have no care for sweetness.

"What's funny?" Arien asked curiously. "It feels like before, I understood him about half the time."

"And now?"

"It's a good day if I understand a tenth of him." Arien shrugged again. She reached for her tea, then her hand wandered as her phone rang. She found it, hit talk. "Hello?" She grimaced as she realized she had switched the phone to intercom mode and Reno's voice blared out of the speakers on the side table by the sofa.

"Yo, Arie. You free?"

"Um, n…" Arien received a very sharp jab in her ribs. "Yes."

"Meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes." With that, he hang up. Arien glared at Ivy.

"I know what he's thinking now!" She barked. "This is a booty call."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is! If this is anything, it's boo-tay."

Ivy cracked a grin. "Trust me on this, Arien. This isn't booty call." She stood up, went to get her coat and Arien's. "Go. Tell me what happened tomorrow."

"ARGH!" Arien's frustrated scream was audible from the corridor leading to the elevator. Ivy smiled. For all their street-smarts, the two were like two small children blundering through the darkness. But that was probably why Arien needed this lesson, to trust people without caring about gender.

"Good luck," she whispered.


	14. 13: The New Dusk

Since the Deepwater Horizion rig explosion, I garnered new knowledge about power plant explosions and just how damaging it can be to the life all around, making me feel it necessary to re-write this chapter accommodating opinions about the recent event. Hence the delay. . After more than fifty days since the incident, I feel that a lot of what I had planned to write in this chapter had changed from what was completely imaginary to that which has taken a little more hint of real life. My apologies, and deepest sympathies to those who were affected by the explosion (including myself, I love shrimp).

ZakuReno – You're right, the story is indeed darker. I pin this onto the fact that over the past 3 (or maybe 4) years, I had gone through a lot of transitions, living alone, breaking up, getting back together again, e.t.c. I guess I am mentally closer to Arien and Reno now, and can hazard a guess of how much stress they go through each day just by living (the scariest thing in the world are bills). My relationship has also taken a turn from handholding to something more mature. Having gone through break-up and quite a few quarrels and making up, I guess I want to recapture Reno as slightly more mature. He probably is more twisted than the first C'est La Vie and much more worldly, while Arien is perhaps a bit softer and more naïve.

Katreda – oh come on, he's not _that_ heartless… I hope :P. I was going to make him gloat, really. I do know a few males who looks as if they collect girls' virginity like some kind of trophies (including, um, my boyfriend), but when I asked him he said the point of it (for him) is not the virginity itself but the virginity as a proof that the girl has surrendered to him. He also said that it was probably because they (including himself in the past) could not be certain that the girl liked him without seeing a visible sacrifice (at this point I was imagining goats on altars). He seems frustrated that I have yet to capitulate after four years. Oh, the incomprehensible minds of men… Now Arien's task is to keep our redhead on the leash…

Echo – Well, my PC is working fine now, but then the wireless died for a few days, so that was no fun… I felt crippled without internet and when the wireless did come back up I had over 400 e-mails waiting for me in my e-mail inbox, most of them advertising me to buy a diamond or a penile size enlargement. I did get a new phone, however, that supports wifi, so methinks I'd be avoiding that fate from now on. I did, however, feel the freedom of not being on the leash and gained an emotional understanding of why my Reno never has his phone on. Reno is a clown, by the way… in a very evil, sinister sort of way. He's just MEAN sometimes (like when he told Yazoo that the venerated "mother" is in fact, a squishy jelly head).

Chapter 13: The New Dusk

Renaldo Miller sat, bored.

It is a common knowledge that the worst fate one can inflict upon this redhead is boredom. Of course, it can also be said that the worst fate anyone can bestow upon a human being is to be stuck in the same room with a very bored Renaldo Miller. His ideas, while insane at the ordinary, turns completely out of control once he feels unentertained.

Unfortunately, none of the Turks were aware that he was bored; Rude was dozing, Elena was not in the room, Tseng was out and Arien was reading. And so the other two were brought out of their own reveries when Reno suddenly said, "I say we go Palmer-hunting."

"And why, pray, would we want to do that?" Arien asked while keeping her eyes on a novel she was reading. The dialogue, written over four hundred years previously, had worked its way into Arien's speech pattern.

"Pray? Pray for what?" Reno asked, then grinned. "It's fun."

"Why is chasing after a three hundred pound man any fun? Seems to be a waste of energy and time."

"That's because you're no fun! Right, Rude?"

Rude, ever the wise one, kept his mouth shut.

It took a collective effort and twenty minutes to dissuade Reno from going Palmer hunting. Arien was not feeling well, and this was further aggravated by "stopping Reno" exercise. She was a chronic migraine sufferer but recently it was getting worse; she would have taken a hit of vodka with her lorazepam, knowing the danger of it, but even that would no longer work. She felt her body was disintegrating, and kept her mouth shut. She was too afraid she would be kicked off the roster.

Surprisingly, one other Turk member was fighting the disintegration of the body. Reno had been suffering from the emptiness that the job brought with an insane cocktail of drugs, alcohol, and sex, and nothing worked in the end. The women's arms only sought something _of_ him, not his entirety; his metabolism was too quick to turn alcohol into toxic aldehyde; and drugs just passed through him like aspirin. His body and mind were disintegrating, and there was nothing he could do. Too afraid to be kicked off the roster, he kept his mouth shut, kept up a cheerful façade. And so when Arien looked pale and wan, he knew what she was suffering, the constant guilt, the flurry of success followed by bouts of depression.

Lunch came, and when Reno left, Arien was still working, and when Reno came back, Arien was still working. There was no indication that she had gone to lunch.

"Did you go to lunch?"

"No. Busy. Go away," were her responses. Reno shrugged helplessly. If he said something, she'd fight back, just because it was he who said it. It seemed that in everything but Turk-related business, she rebelled against him, ignored his advice. Well… not that he gave good advice anyway. Truly concerned but completely unaware of the fact, Reno had no idea how to approach her. He had realized – all too late – that for the first time in his life, he was regretting sleeping with a woman. Sex was supposed to bring the two closer – or at least, the girls tended to get clingy to him after the first time – but she just seemed to drift away, away into her own world, secluded in her office, rarely smiling.

So he went into his office and did only what a suffering, neglected man can do. He plopped his head down and took a nap.

* * *

After a long, exhausting day, Arien DeVir stretched out onto the sofa, a glass of sparkling water with a shot of lime in her hand. She flipped through the newspaper, the stack of magazines sitting on the coffee table. Her apartment was elegantly furnished, a safe haven decorated in beige and black. The room smelled of tea and lavender. It was a feminine room, each piece selected with care and deliberation, just like herself.

So she felt intruded when some objects that did not belong to her were scattered in the room. Reno had a bad habit of leaving things behind, a splash of paint in her otherwise quiet and diminutive coordination. His leather jacket was thrown on the sofa, his hoop earring, a faint whiff of man's cologne in the air. He had gone downstairs to change out of his uniform into something more comfortable. Or so he said.

The phone rang and she picked up, furrowing her brows as she placed the number as an international call. "Bonjour."

"It's Rufus," said Rufus's voice. "How come there's no one in the office?"

"It's ten o'clock, sir. In the evening. " She could not help sounding caustic.

"Oh." Was Rufus away from Midgar for so long that he did not account for the time difference? What was he doing abroad anyway? She wondered but kept her mouth shut. A sudden cold gust of air from the window, carrying the scent of mildew, told her that a storm was coming. She shivered. Her extremities were freezing, her fingers numb.

"DeVir." She was brought back to reality with Rufus' voice. "Make sure that if Re…" A harsh sound of static.

"Pardon, sir?" Arien yelled to be heard over the static.

"Make sure that if Reno gets…" and the voice died, replaced by the steady dial tone that informed her that the conversation had ended. Arien stared at the phone, confused. Reno? If Reno gets what? Just then, the doorbell rang. Reno.

She opened the door slowly, deliberately. Reno waltzed in, cheerful. "A movie date," he had said. "Just like the kiddie years." Arien seriously doubted that Reno had asked a girl out for a movie as a youth, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. No point in revisiting the past. She had no intention of opening the Pandora's Box.

As they walked to the theatre, Arien remained pensive. Reno, ever sensitive to his surroundings, noticed this at once.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Reno knew that it was far from "nothing," but he did not pursue the matter. The walk was continued in silence until a huge boom rocked the two off their feet. Reno launched his body on top of Arien's, and the two rolled, Arien in his arms, for a few feet across the street. And beyond Reno's shoulder, Arien saw.

Reactor 5 was on fire.

At the exact moment, their phones began to ring hysterically. Sirens were blaring, screams and weeps were everywhere.

"There goes our date," Reno said drily as he rolled off and began to dust himself off. A rather large shard of glass had wedged itself in his shoulder, but he paid it no attention.

"Maybe we should just skip the date stage."

"That'd be going straight to bed stage in my book."

"We've already done that." She pulled the phone out, saw Heidegger's secretary's number. "It's Heidegger's bitch."

"Fancy you swearing." Reno grinned and pulled out his phone as well. "She must have us on a conference." They both answered their phones, the little machines a foot away from their ears; Heidegger's secretary still had not learned that one did not need to scream into the phone to be heard, the voice would be carried quite well over the distance without the volume. Reno had called the secretary as "Heidegger's Bitch" or the "Wraith Bitch" - she really looked like a wraith with long, black, limp hair and greyish skin - for so long that he needed a few seconds to remember her real name, but if Arien was calling her that as well, she must have had the pleasure of tasting one of the unpleasantness that dominated Heidegger's floor.

"RENO! DEVIR! WHERE ARE YOU?" The woman screamed. Arien silently wondered why Reno was called Reno while she was called by her last name, then concluded that it was probably because DeVir was much more common than her first name. Miller was common, but it was far too common. There were six Millers in Shinra HQ alone.

"We're in Sector five, going to investigate the explosion," Reno lied breezily, while eying Arien.

"WHAT?"

"DeVir and I are in Sector Five. We're heading over to check out the explosion."

This seemed to have taken the secretary aback, as silence lasted for full five seconds. Then they were cut off the conversation. Arien looked at him.

"We are NOT in Sector Five." She said as she reached over and yanked out the glass from Reno's shoulder. He winced, but said nothing about it.

"Nope."

"How are we going to get there before the others?"

"Motorcycle." Reno grabbed her hand. "Come on!"

Reno, as Arien feared, did not bother going back to the apartment complex to pick up his own – she knew he had one – but he simply hot-wired the first one he came across. She had a feeling he was used to doing this, as he did it deftly and quickly, without any extra movement to deter him from achieving the shortest time. In less than fifteen seconds the engine was on, and Arien was straddling the rear with her arms wrapped around his torso.

"Man, I can feel it," Reno said as they sped through the chaotic avenues.

"Feel what?"

"Your breasts." Arien kept her mouth shut. Her cleavage was a touchy subject, especially when Reno's past "conquests" all boasted heavy-breasted women. They reached Sector Five in no time. The reactor, set in the middle of the sector, was half-crumbled as if someone had taken a large chomp out of it. A fire blazed out of the bite like a very red tongue. People were still screaming, debris were still falling.

"Well, that reactor's busted." Reno commented as he killed the engine.

"Thank you, captain obvious."

"That's my name, don't wear it ou… WATCH OUT!" Reno shouted again, and this time Arien dodged, narrowly avoiding a crashing piece of metal. "This ain't good."

Reno's blue eyes were like two small mirrors, reflecting everything without giving away anything about himself. Amidst the pungent odor of burning buildings, some two feet radius about Arien remained calm, as if she was detached from this mess. He smelled the faint whiff of jasmine. Cold and impassive, they stood in the rubble, staring at the flames. The surveyors would come in and take notes of the extent of the damage, but one thing was clear – this reactor would never work again, not like this. This also meant that the security level would now be raised to code red – as their mobiles indicated, from the color of the notifier on the screen – and that meant increased working hours. Reno groaned.

The sky was grey. Harsh wind blew, tossing about the Turks' hair, making Arien's skirt flap this way and that. Rain began to fall; the Turks stood, sensing a storm coming but not really aware of its size.

* * *

It took twenty more minutes for the two Turks to arrive at the HQ.

It was nearly nine pm, and most of the employees had gone home. Tseng was dressed in chinos and a sweater as he stood commandingly in the conference room. Elena was in jeans, and Rude was obviously coming straight from the gym in his sweats. Reno had dark circles under his eyes, and Arien was sucking on water. All in all, the Turks looked tired.

"I assume you know why you've been called here…"

"Get on with it, Chief." Reno snapped. "If you need us to kill someone, tell us who, when, and how." _Otherwise, stop blabbing, _his blue eyes said. He sounded irritated, and Tseng could guess why. They had just left work three hours before, hoping to be able to spend the rest of the evening for whatever they wished, and here they were, sitting in the conference room.

"The schedule has been changed," Tseng told them. "Reno, you have a new mission. It's urgent, so I'll suspend any duty for the duration of the task. Elena and Rude, double the patrols. Arien, you're mainly going to be on an extended guard duty for Rufus. I'm countermanding anything anyone orders unless it's from the President, Rufus, or Heidegger."

"So no Hojo babysitting?"

"That is correct."

"And you called all of us here just to tell us that. You just couldn't pick up the damn phone."

"Can't. The Intel's almost certain AVALANCHE is behind this, and at this rate they've tapped our lines."

"So… now what? We roll over and play dead?"

"You do exactly what I tell you to do," Tseng snapped. The other three watched the discourse between the Wutaian and the redhead boredly. Only Reno had the temerity to talk back against his superiors, and the other three saw no need to do so. Unlike Reno, who was picked fresh off the streets, the other three were military-trained and were used to obeying orders blindly.

After a small argument – during which Arien took a nap, Elena filed her nails and Rude played a game on his phone – they dispersed. Arien, with her increasing photosensitivity, could no longer stand the lights with her darkvision, borrowed Reno's goggly sunglasses and leaned onto the metro window. She looked tired. Reno stood next to her, equally tired and plagued by very cheap cologne that apparently somebody had bathed in. He silently cursed himself for forgetting his nasal spray; the drugs were wearing off, and his olfactory senses were getting overloaded with the smell of urine, sweat, billions of people who used the metro, food, and what people apparently used to hide their odor. He smelled hyper potion addicts as well as tranquilizer addicts. Someone was snorting dream powder.

They got off, walked in silence to the apartment. Arien was just settling down, curled up in the single seater wearing a robe and pajamas, when she heard the doorbell ring. Yet again. Abandoning her newspaper and a cup of tea yet again, laptop on the coffee table, she padded across the carpeted floor to open the door, half-eaten biscotti in hand.

"Can I help you?" Arien asked groggily to her neighbor several floors below.

"My room got trashed."

"What?"

"My. Room. Got. Trashed." Reno said each word deliberately.

"No, I heard you. I meant, what do you mean?"

"It means some retard broke into my room, ransacked it, tore up everything and didn't give a shit about tidying up. "

"… and what do you want me to do?" Arien gave up on reading or spending her night peacefully. Since it was not possible, she might as well as give up dreaming.

"You were in the Intel."

"You want me to check it out." It was not a question.

"Yeah. Oh, and can I borrow your laptop?"

Arien thrust her biscotti into Reno's hand, then slipped her feet into a pair of loafers – Reno had seen her wearing them in the office – and started down the corridor to the elevator.

The room was indeed "trashed". The bedding was ripped and the springs had popped out from the mattress. Clothes were strewn across the floor, and glasses were smashed and shattered. After taking a cursory glance at each of the rooms, Arien turned around to see Reno finishing the biscotti. "Anything missing?"

"What?" Reno swallowed the biscotti. "I dunno. Didn't exactly go around taking inventories."

"Well, check."

So Reno checked. To his amazement, nothing crucial – or what he believed to be important – was missing. When he reported that back, Arien, who was standing in the corner, gave another cursory glance at the room. "Check again."

"What exactly are we looking for?"

"Can be anything…" Arien shrugged. "Personnel files, memorabilia…"

"That helps a bunch," he said dourly. "Wait a minute."

"Waiting."

"The pictures are gone."

"What pictures, exactly?"

"Yours."

"And what were you doing with them? Masturbating?" Arien's crude suggestion made Reno crack a grin. He gently touched her cheek, which she swatted away angrily.

"Why would I need a picture to finish myself off when I have the model upstairs who'd finish me off?"

"Probably because I won't." She glanced around again. "So that's a no?"

"Right."

Arien sighed. "This is bad."

"What?"

"Look, someone wanted to let you know that they've been in your apartment," she explained, looking pale. "We sometimes did room raids, and trust me, if we didn't want you to know that we'd been there, you'd never notice. This mess" – a wide sweeping arc of a hand as a gesticulation – "is deliberate. They want you to know."

It hit Reno. "You're the target, but the real target's me."

A nod. "Probably."

They left the apartment without exchanging another word; however, when they were stepping out of the elevator, Reno turned to her. "From this point on, we're sticking together unless we really need to separate."

Arien stopped. "I doubt that'd be possible."

"Well, we'd have to. Have any better ideas?" A shake of a head. "Alright then." Arien knew that Reno would just _order_ her – he was her superior, after all – to be escorted everywhere. The only people who could directly countermand Reno were The Shinras, Heidegger, and Tseng; others would have to appeal to the four to have them issue an order to the redhead. Everybody in the building knew the story in which Reno, who had been assigned for a prolonged guard duty for Hojo – the Turks office could not spare anyone else – had urinated in Hojo's apple juice. Hojo, who had noticed that something was definitely wrong with his beverage a week after Reno's disgusting prank had begun, appealed to Heiddeger to change the guard. Unfortunately, Heidegger had lost the memorandum when Palmer vomited all over his desk, leaving Reno to pee freely in Hojo's juice for the next two months. Even subtracting Reno's bravado, this story was very believable, considering the redhead's utter dread and hatred for the mad scientist.

The day ended with Arien turning off her cell phone against the rules – it would not stop ringing – and Reno frantically selling his Shinra stocks. He seemed a merry fool but he knew when danger was coming.

Their lives slowly took a new routine over the next few days. Reno had abandoned his apartment and had all but moved into Arien's. Rufus made a statement over continental broadcast regarding the reactor, saying that it was the AVALANCHE who would do such horrific, inhumane thing and that Shinra would do its best to compensate for the injured, the dead, and the damaged. Suddenly Shinra's PR department was having its hayday. Ashtrays appeared, as well as bottles of hair dye and gels that Arien did not use. She was shocked to see in the morning that Reno's hair was, in truth, a skunky medley of bright copper and brown. It was very odd to see the roots.

The truth was, Reno was one of the most physically affected by the mako radiation. He had regular plain brown hair prior to the treatment, but something had gone wrong in his scalp, making his head stripes of brown and orange. Many normal beings would have just shrugged and dyed their hair brown, but Reno refused to conform. The red dye left stain in the bath and a terrible acrid odor, much to his girlfriend's annoyance.

"My hair's resistant to most dyes," Reno explained when she demanded why it looked like there was a roadkill in the bath tub after Reno had come out and it smelled like someone had just carried out a toxic experiment. "It washes out after a wash or two. This one's semi-permanent." Arien hazarded a silent guess that the dye was probably closer to some of the heavy toxins than a hair dye, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. She really did not want to know.

And then came the mission details from Tseng. A simple drop and run for sector seven. A patrol, a guard duty. They all seemed so innocent, safe and routine.

When Reno looked back to this week, years after the incident, he remembered it as the week he began his life under Arien's tyrannical rule.

When Arien looked back to this week, years after the incident, she remembered it as the last peaceful week of her life before the redhead, the AVALANCHE, and a general flurry of incidents stormed into her life.


	15. 14: The Spring Tempest

FIFA World Cup has taken all my attention to the point my boyfriend thought I died. As much as I love Reno FIFA takes precedence. (I was rooting for Germany, by the way, but they lost to Spain! Paul the Octopus would have made millions if he wasn't an octopus.)

I will do thank you notes in the next chapter, as I am trying to upload the next one within the next three days. We'll see if I end up a liar again. I hope not...

* * *

Chapter 14: The Spring Tempest

She heard the clicks of the shoes against the linoleum, and stood up.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning."

Rufus Shinra was too well-mannered to ignore a greeting, even from his subordinate. Arien opened the office door for him, eying the black panther warily. Dark Nation was sentient, probably weighed more than she did, and was fiercely loyal and even more vicious. For some reason she saw no reason to trust the cat. Perhaps it was because its eyes were too intelligent; perhaps it was because it was owned by Rufus. Personally, Arien trusted Rufus no farther than she could throw a truck.

The morning had not started well. Reno had a briefing and had to leave on time; this left him in an extraordinarily bad mood. They were plagued by what Reno assumed sex noises all night from their neighbor; even he was too tired to suggest drowning them with their own rendition. Groggily they had changed in the faint morning light, looking at the bed forlornly. There was a bit of a panic when Reno had accidentally pulled on Arien's slacks and found it shorter and thinner. After panicking that the trousers had shrunk, Arien could not find her belt. After all the confusion that had occurred, neither had time to eat breakfast.

She entered the office after Rufus, and quietly took her stance in the corner of the room. She was not allowed to sit; Dark Nation came to her, sniffed, then curled around her feet. It purred.

"Pay no mind to the cat," Rufus said coolly as he settled down with a mug of coffee. Arien stifled a sigh and glanced at the cityscape below. It was raining again. It was going to be a long day.

At two o'clock, Rude came to alleviate Arien of her tedious and boring duty. After taking care not to wake up Dark Nation, she left. She was slumped over a table in the dining room, feeling sorely exhausted when Reno found her.

"You look like something a cat dragged in," Reno commented wryly as he sat down across from her. Arien raised her head and scowled for just a tenth of a second before sighing.

"You're more accurate than you think. Dark Nation curled up around me on duty today. It's really hard not to wake up that cat."

"You were thoughtful enough to give the cat a nap?" Reno looked into her face. She shrugged.

"Oh, by the way, did you do something bad recently?"

Reno shifted his eyes. "Define… bad."

"Enough to catch Rufus' notice."

"Nope," was his immediate reply. He had a fleeting moment of fear that maybe the finance department had finally figured out that basically everyone was dipping their hands into Palmer's ridiculous space fund, with Reno being the chief thief, but why would that merit Rufus' notice? Nobody cared about Palmer or his space fund. Even Tseng regularly charged insufficient funds to the space funds. Reno reckoned that if Tseng was doing it, then he was damn well allowed.

Arien moved her lip to the right as if making a lopsided grimace, but said nothing more about it. What was Rufus trying to say? She wanted to ask but could not bring herself to it, not with the steady torrent of secretaries, dignitaries, and others visiting Rufus' office. She never really was good with being in the spotlight; she was perfectly fine skulking in the shadows, but gaining attention was not her forte.

"Oh yeah, I'm not gonna be back until late," Reno was saying. Arien snapped her attention back onto the redhead.

"Alright. I'll be at Siva's until eight."

"What are you and Sivvie gonna do?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, I've been good, as you say," Reno extended his hand and grasped hers. "I want some reward."

"I am not your mother."

"I still want my reward. Drink. Tomorrow."

Trust Reno to go out for drinks after work at these tense times. Arien remembered the last time she had said yes to Reno's invitation after work. Rude had an early day next day; she was the youngest and therefore Reno decided to prey on her. After drinking far too much even by her standards, Reno had brought her home, waited for her to wake up. He then deviously reminded her that she was one hell of a naïve girl if she thought she'd waltz away after "making" her superior – and her precedent in the line – take her home at his expense. He had pushed her down onto the bed, a sneer on his face, and calmly told her to "be still", since he was "hungry and wanted dinner". She had managed to defend herself by pointing a gun at his head, but not before the damage was done; he had deftly unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked the waistband of her slacks, and she had nearly slipped out of them when she had rolled away.

"You tryin' to bluff me? Your gun ain't loaded."

"Try me."

The truth was, her gun was _not_ loaded. She winced at the memory. Not that her defense had mattered, she had ended up in bed with him a few months later. She realized there really was no win for her with Reno as an opponent. She was not a predator, never will be. He was. He marked, targeted, and caught his prey as naturally as if it ran in his instincts. It probably did.

"Fine, I'll let you go… this time," he had said then, his blue eyes dancing. He had taken off his jacket, wearing a white shirt that, while crumpled, was still crisply white. He had tugged off his socks and was barefoot. She had stood up and had begun to dress herself when he stopped her.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, sir? I'm dressing."

"For what?"

"So I can go home."

"You aren't gonna leave me here with this going on, are ya?" He had casually pointed to his groin, where it showed that while he wasn't fully excited – thank god for that – he was excited nevertheless.

"Please don't point."

"I said I'll let you go, not go home."

"Reno, I can't sleep in, unlike you."

"Yeah. So what?" Slamming the coffee cup down onto the table, he had come onto her yet again, pinning her down onto the floor. The next thing she knew, she was using all the knowledge she had garnered during training sessions to roll what was a very persistent – and extremely skilled – man off her. Nonetheless, she had not come unscathed, for Ivy had noticed a reddish bruise on her neck the next day, and she was teased mercilessly for the next few days: "Uh ohhhh, is that a hick-ie?"

She knew this was Reno's ploy, for there was no way she could outdrink a man who had reputedly once drunk the entire Intelligence under the table. Being a Turk she was in no way lightweight compared to a regular female, but she usually ended up drunk as a lord while Reno was still sober as a judge. "No," she said.

"What?" Reno was running his mouth on the skin of her hand.

"I'm not going out to drink with you. No way."

"Why?"

"I distinctly remember that the last time I went, I nearly got mauled and I had three hickeys on my neck!"

"Well, I had to show the bastards who the boss was." He grinned. "But it's okay for you to have hickeys now, right? After all, we are sleeping toge… ouch!" A sharp kick in the shin shut Reno up. He jerked an eyebrow. "Prude."

"Resorting to childish taunts now, are we Reno?" came a voice from behind them. Shivvalan and Siva were grinning, carrying trays, along with Axil. It was Shivvalan who had said the taunt. Reno, unperturbed, grinned back.

"Yeah. Keeps me young."

The three sat down at the table. "How are you two lovebirds?" Axil asked with a vicious grin. He was not a direct acquaintance with Reno, but Arien had worked with him back in the Intelligence days and had developed enough trust in each other to call each other a friend.

"I'm going to go get tea," Arien said suddenly, standing up. Reno immediately knew that she just did not want to answer Axil's question.

"I'll come along." Siva followed suit. "Anyone want some?"

After taking a round of "orders", the two women left, leaving the men to discuss whatever they felt like discussing. Which was, of course, the "lovebirds". In truth, the couple was causing quite a stir in the Shinra HQ gossip mill: the virgin gunslinger and the infamous lady-killer.

"I still can't believe you managed to get her, Re," Shivvalan said wryly. "I thought she'd go for… dunno…"

"Well, someone like Darren." Axil added.

"Didn't know Darren, but he's really starting to sound like he had a stick up his ass," Reno observed.

"He did."

"Arie likes guys with sticks up their asses? Why? Because they come faster with all the rubbing on the prostate?"

"Re, I doubt she knows where the prostate is. At least, not really."

Reno grinned again. Sure, she might not know any techniques to please a male, but her body pleased him enough.

"Well, she is one of them, you know…"

* * *

"How are you two doing?"

"Why are we a unit all of a sudden?" was Arien's reply/complaint. "Before Reno started paying attention to me it was 'Arien, how are you doing?'. Now it's how are you two doing, as if we are inseparable."

"Well, the top streak for Reno's relationship was two weeks. You've outlasted everybody."

"That's like saying I've outlasted the melting of the snowflake." Arien started placing the cups on another tray. "Hardly a compliment."

"Well, it is. Reno has an attention span of a fly when it comes to girls."

"I'm dating a fly. That's wonderful. I'm so elated I'm seriously contemplating throwing this tray in his face."

Arien's sarcasm is difficult to read, Siva thought amusedly. It was either entirely sarcasm, or sarcasm that was masking embarrassment. Under all the façade, she really was just a shy girl. But they were kissing at the winter party at Shivvalan's, although in reality she just stood there while Reno ate her face.

"Pretty fly like a white guy," Siva quoted. Arien cracked a smile.

"He is a white guy."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot." The two women glanced at the table, and returned.

* * *

"They're out to get you."

"They are?" Arien tossed the December issue of _Nouvelle Vogue_ onto the coffee table. "You think the raid's by them?"

"Can be."

"Sivvie, you're giving them way too much credit. Sure, hell hath no fury like a jealous woman, but they were pros. You said yourself they were."

The women were discussing the demise of Reno's room and the culprit behind the mess. Having heard that Siva was part of the team who had printed and dusted the room, Arien thought it wise to consult her former coworker. With both having experiences in the Intelligence, they were well-versed in the methods of dusting. And what it meant when the team could not find anything.

Siva's room was always summer, or so it seemed. Ivy's rooms were awash with bright pastels; Siva's room was themed with orange and yellow. It was bright and cheery, just like Siva herself.

"Well, I'm just saying," Siva replied. "It won't hurt to be alert."

"Uh huh."

Arien ran this conversation over and over in her head, trying to figure out just who exactly was out to get her. She was making a list of possible candidates on a legal pad, searching through the database and a website she had conveniently found – called Reno-sama Fan Club – when there was a VERY loud knock, followed by a rattle.

Arien jerked, made a grab for her pistol. Hearing nothing more, she tiptoed to the door, peered through the eyehole. No one was there. Frowning and curious, she unlatched the safety and opened the door to see Reno slumped on the floor.

Arien was so shocked she could not even scream. Telling herself to calm down, slow down, to take it easy, she relatched the safety and placed it on the cabinet beside the door. She then took to the arduous task of hauling the man in.

Reno was bleeding, looked battered, and was heavy. He was slender and by no means as big as Rude, but he was mostly muscle and Arien struggled with his dead weight. Finally closing the door, she turned him over to see a deep gash on the side of the abdomen, along with what could be a few broken ribs.

"…"

She was speechless. Turks did have fast healing but did Reno come from wherever he was all the way to the apartment with two broken ribs, a fracture in his arm, a possible sprain in his ankle and a laceration in the side of the stomach? What did he think he was, some superhuman? Angry at his recklessness, she was reaching for the phone when a feeble hand stopped her.

"No…" Reno gasped. "No… Hojo…"

For a woman who had gone through the terrors of the "treatment" Hojo gleefully administered, it was no difficult task to understand. "You know I'm not a physician, right?"

"Don't… care…"

And so Arien set to the task of fixing Reno. There was nothing that could be done with the ribs; best to leave them alone, and give him a few hits of non-steroidal anti-inflammatories. Arien hoped Reno did not suffer from peptic ulcers. The simple fracture was oblique but it had not moved; this would just need splinting. The laceration would need stitching. There was much to do, and time was her enemy.

Thankfully, most Intelligence members (and Turks for that matter) were used to stitching themselves up. Resolutely she pulled out her medikit, and set to work. The stitching came first; spraying benzocaine into the wound, she closed the wound, stitch by stitch. Her hand was sweating inside the glove and she feared more than once that her hold on the forceps or the hold of the needle would slip, but benzocaine worked, Reno did not scream, and Arien managed to close the wound. After the suturing Arien was tired, but there was no time to be wasted.

Splinting was a little easier; the sprain would heal in half a day. The ribs, she left alone. By the time she was done, Arien was bathing in cold sweat and there was a smear of blood on herself as well as the wooden flooring. She paid no attention to it; she needed to get Reno to bed. It took even more effort to put the man to bed than to pull him into the apartment; by the time she was finished with everything, she was drenched in sweat, covered in Reno's blood, and wanted a bath.

She needed to do one more thing. Picking up the phone, she dialed, and waited for Tseng to pick up.

* * *

Reno fully regained consciousness when he smelled the lavender and jasmine from the bathroom. He opened his eyes, and saw Arien in nothing but a bathing towel. Her back was turned to him, and she was bent over, pulling something out from the dresser. Her long, black hair clung onto her wetly. The bathing towel was too narrow to provide comfortable coverage for the tall woman, and her legs were amply bare. In the vague light of the night stand, almost half her body was silhouetted.

Feeling someone staring, Arien turned, and saw the redhead awake and observing her. She was suddenly very aware that she was one piece of cloth away from complete nakedness. And that Reno was watching her. Unnerved, she backed into the dresser and winced in pain when the corner dug into her back. Reno's face curved into a knowing smile. His azure cat eyes danced.

Reno regretted not being able to undress her. Wrapped in wool, cotton, silk, she was like a big present waiting to be unwrapped. He almost felt the same excitement he used to feel on Yuletide mornings when stacks of presents would be lying around the tree, peeling the wrapping paper from each package, trying to see what was within. There was always that one moment when Arien looked completely vulnerable, standing naked, that fleeting moment of doubt before she submitted herself to him. Her eyes would be clouded in doubt – and perhaps fear – and her lips would tremble.

"Are you alright?" Arien asked gently, sitting gingerly on the bed as if he was a doll made of glass and if she sat down without care he would snap in two. Reno had a sudden realization that not once in his lifetime had any female – apart from his mother – asked him if he was alright. What was it about her that had kept her so humane? He wondered. In the world where cruelty was second nature, treachery and distrust were the norm, Arien seemed so naïve sometimes.

Yet…

Yet she had killed others as if she was just swatting a fly.

"I got beaten up pretty badly, huh," Reno muttered.

"It's nothing time won't heal. Although how did a Turk get beaten up so badly by three rag-tag terrorists?"

"It was three to one. And unequipped to boot."

"Oh." Arien knew the extent of equipment Reno was given to do this mission. No wonder he was so battered. She placed a hand on his forehead; her hand was cool and dry, a welcome relief for a feverish Turk.

"Sleep," said the voice gently as he fell into the oblivion. "Sleep…"

After Reno had fallen back asleep, Arien sat at her desk in her office. What it really was a spare room cluttered with papers, books, files. Pens and pencils were scattered over a large stainless steel table that substituted as a desk. The computer hummed as she moved the mouse, waking it from its stupor. There was a message flashing across the screen. Taking a look at it, Arien froze, swallowed, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. She paled, eyes open wide; then she turned off the monitor, pondering.

"REQUESTING IMMEDIATE PRESENCE AT HQ. LEVEL EIGHT SECURITY BREACH. ALL UNITS CONVENE AT ONCE. ALL PERSONNEL ON ALERT UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE."

She picked up her Sig Sauer; the black metal was comforting in her hand. She stood up, then strapped the saddle holsters; she slid her Colt and her Sig into them. She changed her trousers into a leather pair. Throwing on a blazer, she scribbled a note, left it on the bedside table then rushed out the door.

* * *

A black figure blazed through the street. A black helmet masked her face, but the passers-by could see that she had very long, raven hair that streamed behind her. She wore a black blazer and black leather trousers; weaving between the cars and the rubble, the figure breezed through the avenues.

Arien stopped in front of the Shinra HQ; yanking off her helmet, she pulled out her Sig, cocked it. She could see the security staff manning the doors but she did not trust in their abilities at all. Throwing a nod toward their direction, she disappeared into the building, her boot heels clicking on the floor.

* * *

The sirens were blazing and the noise was deafening, and Arien had to shout in order to be heard. "He's in recovery."

"WHERE?"

"IN RECOVERY!"

When Arien had arrived at the HQ, she had wondered for a fleeting second whether she had come to the right building. Pandemonium had erupted within the non-restricted levels of the tower, the kind of a disorganized mess before it becomes a cohesive, effective unit. Wading through the people – and shouting over the shrieks and the yells and pointing her gun at some – she had barely gotten into the elevator before she was nearly assaulted by the pressing throng of people. She nearly suffocated in the corner and considered petitioning Rufus to make a Turks-only elevator.

The world was ending. Shinra was ending. President Shinra was dead, killed by a ghost from five years past! Sephiroth was out to kill everybody. No, it was not Sephiroth but rather someone masquerading as him! Bombarded with information, both false and true, Arien had decided to disregard all of it until she could hear the reports. When she had arrived, the conference room housed Rufus, Tseng, Elena, and Rude. They were standing around the table.

Although the men just nodded to her, Elena observed her. She looked relaxed, as if this was just a regular meeting. Weight placed on one foot, an easy, amused smile on her face, she moved smoothly as she swung away her blazer front to holster the pistol in her hand. She looked carefree, unworried, confident. Elena wondered how she managed to look comfortable in the chaos.

Yet Tseng saw something different. There was something that was masculine about Arien, while she maintained her femininity. Her eyes were alert and predatory and she moved with purpose as she swung away the front of her blazer and holstered her pistol. The stance, with her weight placed on one foot, was always ready for attack and defense. She was seasoned and therefore would look calm, even a bit lazy, for the untrained eye, but anyone in the room who had seen a season of fights would have noticed that Arien was on full-alert mode.

"You were summoned here on this god-given night, because of two reasons," Rufus broke the silence. "One, Reno succeeded in his mission. Two, President Shinra is dead."

The Turks did not move.

"It is assumed that I will be succeeding his office," Rufus continued. "They assume right. You will be reporting to Heidegger still, but I will take command of the Turks from now on. DeVir!"

"Yes sir." She saluted out of habit.

"How long will it take for Reno to get back into shape?"

Arien frowned. "I'd say no more than a week, sir. His regenerative ability far surpasses any of us."

"Alright." Rufus straightened; for some reason it seemed to the Turks that he was actually injured, and was standing from sheer willpower. "No major operations until he comes back."

"Yes sir!"

"Oh, and Elena, your tenure as a Junior is over." Rufus looked around. "Dismissed."

When Arien returned, Reno was fast asleep. She watched him as she changed, surprised that he looked much younger than his years when asleep. Perhaps his years came from his eyes, the guilt and the self-derisive mockery that he always had. Perhaps not.

She slid into bed, taking care not to wake him, but he moved anyway. His arms snaked around her as if he needed reassurance in her presence. He was warm as she was cold; fire met wind, bringing changes to each of them.

Spring was coming.


	16. 15: A Dance in Junon

Okay, I lied, I did not get this up in 3 days. But at least it was only a week...

ZakuReno - This chapter is a COMPLETE filler. I wanted to write a ball scene but realized I couldn't fit it, so I had to make 2000 words worth of exploring psyche. This was rather boring and a halting job. It was rather fun to write a Reno-centric chap though; I never really thought about exploring him by itself, but then I remembered that this story's about him as well. For me he is just as complex as Arien is and perhaps even more.

Echo - I actually think there IS a Reno-sama Fan Club somewhere out there. For some reason, I don't want to be a fan... that'd mean I'd just be his groupie. Nah, I'd rather be a god moving him around, thanks :P. Or at least his equal. I always thought Reno must be a football fan, so I might add a FIFA scene somewhere along the story... heh heh. Well, Germany will win next time. I'm counting on you, Kiesling!

* * *

Chapter 15: A Dance in Junon

"… Wow."

"What." Arien turned away from the mirror. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"… Wow."

Arien looked at him sourly. It had been ten days since the fiasco, and the town had calmed down. Four days until the celebration begins in Junon. The first day in Junon for the Turks.

To cause as little attention as possible, the members of the squad were told to enter the city separately and by themselves, posing as tourists. The Turks blue caused discomfort among the regular citizens, and far too much so. They traveled economy, playing the masquerade that they were no more extraordinary than the man sitting next to them.

"Alright, Renaldo," Arien said as she sat down on the bed. "What's so wow about me?"

"I've never seen a chick so… unsexy with that much skin showing. Maybe it's because you have no breasts… OUCH! Hey! I'm injured here!"

"You so deserved that." Arien made no apology for a sharp slap she had just delivered on his arm.

Reno grinned. Breast size was a touchy subject. Arien was acutely aware of the lack of her chest area; Reno had no problems about it, but he did like to make jokes about it now and then.

He watched her, sitting on the dresser, as Arien moved around, checking the luggage, holstering her pistol – Beretta, he noted – and checking the boarding passes. They looked like regular tourists alright, Reno in his black T-shirt and jeans and a pair of black Chuck Taylor all-stars, Arien in her fuchsia pink camisole and a black shirt on top of it. Her camisole had tartan pattern and bra cups, negating the need to wear a bra underneath; her sleeves were rolled up and buttoned, leaving her limbs bare. Her pink sandals clicked.

Reno was checking the schedule for their stay. "Check-in… parade… party… more party… a ball… A BALL?" Reno looked up. "A ball?"

"If you assume it's a ball-game, you assume wrong." Arien was zipping up a suitcase.

They took a train to the airport. The airport was just as they had remembered; it smelled of plastic and cleaner fluid, and the intercom system was broadcasting various messages in various languages. Arien's ears caught bits of conversations in languages from all over the world, including Wutaian, although Midgarian still dominated the populace. The public broadcast was saying the same thing in different languages: passengers are requested to have their travel documents and the boarding passes ready for inspection by port authorities, please be ready to go through physical inspection, the airport is now under security code B, all passengers must comply with the rules outlined in the rulebook passages B2 through C15. After checking their luggage in, Reno and Arien queued to go through inspection. Arien heard Reno sigh in relief when the inspection booths came into view: they were cubicled to allow certain privacy. Their passports looked innocent enough but when scanned they would be known to the personnel as high-ranking Shinra executives. Having the personnel accidentally announce to the rest of the airport that Turks were around seemed hardly desirable.

Reno's turn came first and he disappeared into one of the booths. Arien stepped forward when the officer gestured and obediently presented her boarding pass and her passport, and did not react when the blank face of the officer registered a shocked expression as he read what the screen flashed when he scanned the passport.

"Miss, we were informed that some of you would be traveling this week, but…"

"No fuss, please," she waved her hand.

"But…" he checked the boarding pass. "We can ask for an upgrade to business, or first class, if you wish…"

"No." She extended her hand. "My passport, if you please? Unless you are not finished."

"Oh, sorry. Have a nice flight."

Arien stood up and walked through the doorway that was marked "Welcome to Midgar Airport". She saw the brightly-lit duty frees, coaches for the waiting passengers, the large screen showing boarding times, flight numbers, gates, and the status of each flight. Reno was waiting for her.

"They tried to upgrade," she said.

"I hope you didn't. I didn't."

"Couldn't. Rufus'd have my ass. I made sure I'd get first class booze, though."

"I should have thought of that." She smacked her forehead.

"Drinking on flight? Tsk Tsk."

"I need some incentive to sleep." She adjusted her backpack over her shoulder. They had been prescribed a sleeping pill that was potent enough to even knock the Turks out, but apparently Arien wanted alcohol with it to help the stupor along.

"I need cigarettes." Reno said after checking his pockets and coming up empty.

She pointed at the duty free. "There's your smorgasbord. Oh, by the way, you can't smoke in the airports or the airplanes."

An hour and a hundred thousand gils later, they were sitting on a coach. Reno was on the phone with Tseng – who had already arrived in Junon – and Arien was reading a magazine.

"Yeah… we'll be arriving in… nine hours. Yeah, we know." Reno was saying. "Yeah. We'll just check in, I'm pretty sure we'd both be knackered. Yeah, we'll give a call when we settle down." He ended the call, then turned to the woman sitting next to him. "Anything interesting?"

"Just the Aubrey scandal with the Mideelian mayor." Arien closed the magazine. "What did Tseng say?"

"Check in, keep a low profile. Speaking of low profiles…"

Arien dropped her shoulders and looked to the heavens – or more specifically, the white ceiling – at Reno's implication. "You sound deprived."

"Who cares. Oh, Tseng said to give a call when we settle down."

"Uh huh." Arien stretched. The Turks were not pleased with the simple task of bodyguarding. They were much more suited to skulking in the dark, especially Reno, who generally disliked being in the spotlight. His world was the dark city slums, the night bars, the brothels that reeked of cheap perfume and stale sweat.

The boarding was uneventful. They ignored the safety announcements at the beginning of the flight and instead popped the pills into their mouth, crunching the tablets and swallowing them with a grimace. Reno wondered if Hojo had concocted such foul-tasting tablets on purpose; it did not help that liquid was forbidden to be taken with the pills. The flight was peaceful, and the Turks spent the hours sleeping, only awaking when the carts came along to offer food and drink. Arien had downed what seemed to be an entire bottle of Chambord; Reno two bottles of Old Parr.

The jolt of the landing shook them awake; for the next hour they spent their time at the airport trying to get through the customs while trying not to alert everyone. The same shock registered across the faces when the logo of the Shinra Company flashed across the screens, but nothing else occurred; they took a taxi to the hotel, trudged to the elevator with their luggage after checking in. It was noon when they had arrived to their designated room.

"It's a double," Reno groaned.

"Tseng must have booked us as a couple."

"Well, there goes my night of sleep."

"I thought you'd be happy with this arrangement."

"Not with us coming and going, nah." Reno flopped onto the bed. "As much as I like exercising in bed…. Speaking of…" Reno had raised his upper body and was about to reach for her when the room's landline rang. He paused, then flopped back onto the bed again as if he had lost all energy. He gestured Arien to go get it.

He then spent the next three minutes trying to figure out a way to sleep peacefully with guarding duties working them around as Arien talked on the phone – with Tseng, he assumed – hammering out the details for the day. When she hung up, she turned to the redhead. "We have a day off. Well, the rest of the day off. Rufus isn't here yet."

"That means Heidegger and the Lardy Cake aren't here yet either." His face lit up. Rufus could pick whenever he wanted to go, as he was coming on a private jet.

Arien flopped onto the bed next to him. They both stared at the ceiling wordlessly for a few minutes before Reno said, "Hey, aren't you hungry?"

"Yes."

He sat up. "Lunch."

* * *

"I need to go pick up my dress. I'll see you at the hotel."

It was humid and hot in Junon; apparently springtime in Midgar translated to summer a little south of the city. Arien had left in her orthodox manner, all business. Reno sat on the bench, watching the people go by, smoking a cigarette and wondering. He never really knew what she was feeling. Not thinking, no; he knew what she was thinking. But her mask was illegible, he could not see what she was feeling, whether it was pain or disappointment or happiness. He wondered if she would ever show it to him, or perhaps she would forever guard herself from him, as if that was her last defense.

He was in such deep thought that he did not realize a woman was sitting next to him. He watched her from the corner of the eye, watching her sit alone, perhaps looking for someone. The way she sat, the way she tossed her head, reminded him of many one-night stands he had. It had been a long, tedious summer for Reno that year. He was nineteen, had just been recruited to the Turks, was not quite aware of what he was doing or what he was supposed to be doing, and bored.

He had just broken up with his something-th girlfriend. Or more specifically, she had broken up with him. It was a hot and humid summer, he had not much idea on what he was supposed to be doing with his life.

He was just drinking in a bar when a woman approached him. She was slightly older than he was – probably early twenties – and he knew of her. She was the woman working on floor twenty-six, and he had always noticed her watching him. He had just went along his way, not wanting to get involved with whatever the woman had in her mind.

"Hello," she said. Lips painted a tantalizing red curved into a smile. "Do you mind company? Or perhaps you like to drink alone?"

Reno raised an eyebrow. He grinned. "I won't mind some company… depending on who the company is." He gestured to a seat next to him.

He had been young, he mused. Young and confused and frustrated. He could not recall how he ended up in her room, but he remembered telling her that this was a one-night stand, and her smiling and telling him if he thought she should have expected anything more. He hated himself, he hated everyone, and he had released all his pent-up frustration in her along with the spasms that wracked his nineteen-year-old body. He had felt worthless in a new environment where everyone was older than he was, knew more than he did.

Then there was a girl when he was twenty-three, a young eighteen-year-old girl. He had just let Delara go. He was alone again, free again, free to live and free to die in the corner of a dark alley. His bed had been empty for some time. The girl had begged him to spend a night with her, just one, no more, not expecting any more.

"You're gonna regret it," he had warned her, not wanting to feel the coolness of the bed amidst the summer humidity and heat, but still unable to accept another female into his bed without remorse. The girl had accepted it. He remembered positioning himself over her, her gasps, thrusting into her, feeling the emptiness that he always felt when he just had sex without anything in between them. It always felt like there was a Plexiglas wall between the writhing body under him and himself. She had gasped, he had come. He had then lit a cigarette, the same brand of cigarette he was smoking now, moving away when the girl had tried to "cuddle". What were the women doing now? Were they even alive?

"I thought you were going back to the hotel," said the voice. Reno started, realized the cigarette was about to burn his finger, threw it onto the ground and trod on it. Arien was standing, holding a garment bag in her hand. He looked up into her face.

"Arie." He stood up.

"Are you alright?" She asked as they began to walk back to the hotel.

"Why do you ask?"

"You looked…" Arien stopped. Lonely was the right word, a lonely self-derisiveness that had had passed across his face, a cynical smile.

"I…" Reno hesitated, then continued. "Nothing."

"Really?" Her tone was artificially nonchalant.

"Actually, no." He slid his arm around her waist. "Not by a long shot."

She said nothing for the rest of the way. He could not say anything for the rest of the way. What he wanted to say was, no, he was not alright, he wanted her right there and then, to make sure that she was there not as just one-night stand but there on a semi-permanent basis. Never mind that many women would have happily offered what Reno had wanted, a constant companionship. Arien, by not offering him anything, had made certain that Reno would always seek her, to make sure she would not leave. Gladly offered he would refuse, withdrawn and he would hunt for it. He knew it was contrary. He knew it was selfish. And he could not help it.

Back at the hotel Reno had allowed her no protest. She made none. He took her as if to make sure that she still loved him. He knew he was not sure Arien even liked him. Sometimes he felt her contempt… or perhaps derision. Scared like a small boy and not wanting to admit it, he tried to control her, wanting to hear her voice laden with tears. But not once did she beg.

_I'm scared_. He could not bring himself to say it. Time flew by him; he felt like he was at a standstill while the world went by. It was as if time were grains of sand that kept escaping his hand. He wanted to tell her, wanted her to comfort him, but she had turned away.

So he turned away from her. A mix of pleasure and pain sat in him, like bittersweet juice of a ripe fruit.

Rufus arrived the next day. The Turks, who had all arrived by then, were then driven to work. Reno managed to forget the pain he felt the previous day. Rude and Reno were assigned to accompany Rufus – always – and Arien sat down with Tseng to work out the placements of the soldiers for maximal protection during the ceremonies. Elena was compiling notes on their encounters with the Cloud & Co; there had been reports that the blond hedgehog was on his way with the ragtag band to Junon. Nobody quite understood what was in Junon to merit such a visit, but "you can't be too careful", Tseng had said.

Assigned to different tasks, the Turks hardly had any time to see each other. The presence of Arien in the hotel room surprised Reno, who had returned from the guard duty. It was their fourth day, and when he had returned to get changed and grab lunch she was sitting at a desk, staring at what looked like a floor plan.

"Yo," he said as he shrugged his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed. She turned.

"Hi."

"I'm gonna go get lunch. Did you eat?"

"No, not yet." She stretched, then stood up. She waited, leaning onto the rim of the desk, as Reno changed into a clean shirt. "You should have told me you didn't have lunch duty. It would have given something for me to look forward to."

Reno mentally groaned. Arien had a habit of dropping a small hint that maybe, just maybe, she was a willing girlfriend and she did indeed like him. And then she'd push him away. It always left him teetering on the edge, wondering which part of her was more honest.

"Sorry," he shrugged. "Thought you'd be busy."

"I am. That's why I need something to look forward to." She stretched again; Reno smelled of cedar and basil and lime. And cigarettes. And the ever-present metallic whiff of blood. She left the desk and straightened the collar of his shirt.

"What?"

"Nothing." She wished she could say what she felt; but for some reason her mouth was shut, unable to say what she wanted to say. Fear sometimes wrenched at her throat, threatening of the day when she'd wake up and find Reno gone. Desperate to not make that happen, she resorted to keeping a cool stance, cool, controlled and distant.

"Oh," she said as if she had just remembered, "I want you to take a look at something."

"What's that?"

"The defense plans. You'd have more experience than me."

He shrugged. "Sure."

So over the lunch in the booth by the window they discussed how an attacker might attack. "Nah," Reno said as he cut into his steak, "I won't go that way. Way too obvious. I'd end up a target practice for the rookies."

"So where would you be?"

Reno squinted. He finally pointed with his forefinger. "There."

"There?" Arien gawked. "That's in the open! Anyone with a decent rifle can snipe it down."

"Yeah, but it's the safest vantage point."

Arien looked out the window. "Alright…" she finally said. "I'll add guards to the scaffolding."

"Yeah." He went back to his lunch. "Speaking of, why weren't you on the ball's placement map?"

"Because I have a moving station."

"What?"

Arien suddenly looked reluctant. "I'm Rufus' personal bodyguard for the night. As an escort."

"What!"

"That was my reaction as well." Arien shrugged, but her blasé countenance was betrayed by the way she downed the glass of water. "But that's that. I won't have much to defend anyone with at the ball, so Reno…"

"What."

"Do keep me safe, won't you?"

"Why don't you ask Tseng?"

"Because," she said, "I trust you the most."

Soaring high point.

"At least when it comes to the job."

Reno crashed down to earth.

"Oh, Reno?"

"… what."

"When do you get off duty next?"

"Errr, seven."

"Can you take me out for a drive?"

Reno looked up in surprise. It was rare for Arien to ask him for anything, and he was certain she could take herself there. Yet she asked him.

* * *

At seven thirteen, Arien was waiting for him in the room. Reno quickly changed – it was really hot in Junon – and asked where she wanted to go.

"The cliffs," she said. She had a faint smile on her face. Reno had an irrational fear that perhaps she was trying to push him off the cliff, but upon second thought he dismissed it as silly. So he drove her to the cliffs in a car that was originally issued to Tseng. He had taken it without permission, deeming Tseng too busy to drive anyone or himself. Arien seemed to want to ask where he had gotten a car that looked exactly the same as the one that was issued to the Chief of the Turks, but she kept her mouth shut. She held a bouquet of flowers in her arms, peonies and lilies with jasmine vines and lavender. The bouquet spread a sweet fragrance into the summer air, clean and floral without becoming cloying.

"What's that for?"

Arien just smiled. Reno left it at that.

The winds played with their hair as they drove. Arien wanted to tell him there and then that she wanted his love but too scared that it would sound like a euphemistic plea for help, she kept her mouth shut and just stared out the window. Reno wanted to ask Arien what she really thought of him but was too scared to be seen as insecure and could say nothing, lest unintended words burst out from his mouth. Wanting the security but too afraid to trust, the lovers sat in an enclosed space together but completely by themselves. Feeling lonely without being alone, they felt just how important they were to each other – and just how much the other members of the squad was part of the family – but years of doubt and treachery made their words heavy and unwilling. Too tired to fight against the sloth, they remained silent.

Reno stopped the car; they got out. They sat on the grass, legs dangling from the cliff, shoulder to shoulder. Arien sat, the bouquet in hand.

"What's the flowers for?"

A smile and a shrug of a shoulder was all he received.

A few moments later, Reno broke the silence again. "Why did you wanna come here?"

"Nobody comes here," she replied.

"So? You could've come by yourself."

"I know. It's just that… I wondered what it felt like to just be with you."

"Uh huh." He stood up. "Come on, it's getting cold."

"Just a moment," she said. Reno had already walked to the car, but stopped and turned, saw Arien throw the bouquet into the sea below.

The flowers sat in the water, drifting.

* * *

"Yo, whazzup Shiv."

"He-hey! How's Junon?" Shivvalan's voice brought back the faint smell of Midgar. "How's the weather?"

"It's so damn hot I think someone's punishing Rufus. Hey listen, Arien told me to take her to the cliffs today. She threw a bouquet of flowers. Know what that was about?"

Silence. Then, "She didn't tell you?"

"Dude, she tells me nothing."

More silence.

"What?"

"Dunno if I should tell you."

"Shiv, I've cheated, I've killed, I've done most drugs on the market, and I've pissed in the public."

"Alright, fine." Shivvalan paused. "Remember Darren? Arien's ex?"

"Yeah. What about him?"

"He was cremated. His ashes were scattered from the cliff in Junon. He was Junonese."

Reno remained silent.

"So why bring me?"

"Don't be so thickheaded, Re. My guess is that she wanted to tell him that she can move on with her life… with you in it."

"Yeah. But why didn't she tell me?"

"Because it's Arien." Laughter. "Listen, she never says anything. It really is up to you to make smart guesses. But then again, that's why she managed to keep you, right?"

Reno returned to the hotel room after the conversation ended, where Arien was stretched out onto the bed. He sat down and touched one of her bare legs. The skin was smooth and supple, a hint of firmness under the skin.

"Arie?"

She opened her eyes. "Yes?"

So many things he wanted to say. So many things he could not. "Thanks," he said at last, silent and quiet, loving her all the same.

She did not ask what for. She just smiled and nodded, extended her arms toward him. He obliged, leaning forward.


	17. 16: One, Two, Waltz

Katreda - Thanks for reviewing! I'm not certain how I'd end this yet. My last version ended in happy endings (well, sort of), but I don't know about this one. Rest assured, these two would be going through a lot more topsy turvies before this fiction ends. I did manage to get my hands on On the Way to a Smile: Turks, although it was very Rufus-centric to me. So I'll weave that in somewhere.

ZakuReno - What I would give to see Reno naked... actually, no, then I'd have to pine after something that'd never be mine. Plus if I had a naked guy's picture on my wall my boyfriend would be VERY upset. I wonder how tall he is, though. I made him relatively tall, but he's too slouched for me to make any good educated guesses. (That, and I like tall guys.)

Echo - I seem to have more fun writing this story. Reno is a bit darker, a bit more mature, a bit more like the original Reno in FFVII. Arien is a bit more mature too, I think, which seems more appropriate for a Turk. She's also not the social hermit. We all mature, and so did she... although I'm entirely certain that a lot of people would whinge that Reno is not canon enough.

GUYS, PLEASE REVIEW. I'm begging here (and that would make my boyfriend very jealous, so that means something... No? Oh well). I'm sure there's more than three people reading this drabble. Please?

WARNING: Some heavy sexuality in this chapter.

Chapter 16: One Two Waltz

The Inauguration Ball was, as in accordance to Rufus' wishes, as opulent and extravagant as it could be. Expensive and rare flowers decorated the hall, delicacies were collected from around the world. The carpeting was made of silk and velvet; chandeliers were brought in to be only used for that night. Everything had to be the best. After all, it was for Rufus, and he demanded nothing less.

The Turks, in the meantime, were exhausted. The parade used up most of their attention span; Elena was given the easy job of sticking with Rufus for the duration of the day while the rest of them were virtually stuck to their positions, scanning for any snipers with rifles in hand. It took a lot of concentration and was generally a boring work, not to mention the harsh, beating sun exhausted them out.

"Owww," Arien moaned as she rolled onto the bed. "My back." She had lay down on her stomach with binoculars and a rifle for nearly six hours as the parade proceeded.

"Come here, babe."

"Are you trying to kill me?" Arien groaned as her back creaked. She moaned in pain and stopped.

"Just listen and come here."

She obediently got up and neared him. He wrapped his arms around her waist firmly, and pulled her toward him. Then pressed her tighter to himself so hard that he wondered if she would break in two.

"Ahh…" she groaned a sigh of relief. "That felt good."

"Thought so." He looked at the clock. "Isn't Rufus coming to pick you up in an hour?"

"Ooh, yes." She turned and unraveled her hair. "I need to shower."

Reno, who was playing with her hair, was silently displeased but there was nothing he could do. "Hey," he said as she began to walk away.

She stopped. "What?"

"You aren't thinking you're gonna walk away from this home-free, right?"

She stopped. "Er…"

"You aren't gonna get any sleep tonight. I hope you slept a lot last night."

A flash of fear showed in her eyes, but she walked away anyway. He remained, wondering why he always felt so sadistic toward her, as if by making her cry and beg he could feel a stronger possession over her. In truth, he was frightened by Rufus' sudden presence. He understood that Rufus was his superior, and that in a regular competition the blond would win every time, hands down. And when it came to Arien – who rarely showed affection for him – what was there to ensure that she would not go flittering to his arms?

At the same time, Arien was in the shower, silently dreading what Reno was going to do to her. Not once did his sadistic tendencies ever surface in the office gossips. Was it because it was discreetly kept silent, or was it because he was only sadistic towards her? She had no idea. He was usually sadistic in bed to begin with to the point she thought she would go insane. If it were the generic sorts with whips and hot wax, she would have had no problem dealing with it – after all, she had gone through the torture training and her pain threshold was higher than an average woman – but being tortured with pleasure was not on the training menu. Having to do two things at once – not betray that she thought she was going to go insane from the pleasure – and battling the agony of not being able to climax when she wanted to wearied her out. She had heard office gossips that Reno was "amazing" in that area, but never in her life had she heard that Reno had merciless tendencies to withhold the last stage until he wished. She silently cursed him.

Yet she noticed a hint of proudness in Reno's face as she checked herself in the mirror after dressing. Her hair was pinned up into a neat, intricate bun with black pearls and white crystals sprinkled in. She turned back, checking to see if she looked alright from behind. Reno was sitting, dressed in his uniform, in the chair.

"Do I look okay?" She asked.

"I wonder what Rufus'd say if I just ripped your dress off and started doing you right now," he mused. Arien glanced at him, looking sour; yet her eyes showed she was not offended.

"Please don't."

"Yeah, I know I know. Not until tonight, anyway."

Her dress was made of black silk chiffon and organza, with pleated organza bands with crinoline and crystal mesh tubes that sharply followed the contours of her body. One leg was exposed from the separated chiffon; the other was hidden in the folds. Black pearls and white crystals decorated her ears, and black velvet her neck; yet her delicate wrist was just decorated in a silver chain. Reno knew why Rufus had dressed her in black. He was going to be wearing white. Just like everything else in his life, Rufus demanded harmony in this ball with a blond man wearing white and a raven-haired woman wearing black. So like him.

Reno was brought back from his thoughts when Arien had hoisted up her leg onto a chair, exposing the white flesh of her thigh. "Reno, can you do this for me?"

"Err, do what?"

"I can't bend over. Can you do the holster for me?"

She cursed her dress for the next three minutes as Reno slowly and deliberately strapped the thigh holster onto her, his hands lingering on her thigh, tantalizing and teasing her. It seemed to take forever for him to finish adjusting the straps, and she was about to keel over when he finally told her he was finished.

The phone rang. Reno picked up.

"There's a car waiting for Miss DeVir."

"She'll be right down." He hanged up the phone. "Rufus's downstairs."

"Oh." She made a final twirl. "Reno?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't be mean to me tonight, please? I know you're not pleased with this arrangement, but I don't want to pass out."

Which just told him that she was not reluctant to spend the night with him.

* * *

The ball was opulent, extravagant, and artistic. And Arien, Reno thought, fit right in there.

With her slender form and her expressionless face, she drew attention from the media, standing next to Rufus, greeting dignitaries, pretending to the elegant, well-mannered couple that they were not. Her red mouth curved into a smile, her arms linked with the blond's. She really was playing the beautiful, well-educated, upper-class partner of the esteemed Rufus Shinra, and she played it well. He stood warily, lurking in the shadows, keeping his eyes on Arien – and consequently, Rufus Shinra himself – while checking if there was anyone suspicious. Tseng was in charge of the main operation in the back room, Elena was running the background checks for the fifth time, and so Arien, Rude, and Reno were left to man the field.

Dressed in a white tuxedo, hair done to perfection, Rufus had tried to act out the vision of the future Shinra, and as far as Reno could tell, he was succeeding. Compared to the previous image of Shinra – that twisted, sinister, lecherous, egomaniac man who had died under Sephiroth's sword with mysterious circumstances – created a sharp, stark contrast to Rufus himself, a beautiful, benevolent, strict ruler of the company. Accompanied by the dark-clad woman, they were a pair of swans, white and black.

"How's it going?"

He turned and saw Ivy and Zen. "Whoa! Didn't know you two were coming."

"I'm here" – Ivy gestured – "as a guest. Zen is here as an operative."

"The Intel's here?"

"They're your underlings. Or so I understand. The entire military personnel who can do covert operations are here."

Reno looked around. Sure enough, he noticed Shivvalan, Axil to name a few as security staff.

"I'll get something to drink for you two," Ivy said with a smile. "Anything you'd prefer?"

"Don't care," the two boys said in unison. Ivy left, her green gown gliding. Her gown exposed her back and her shoulders quite nicely, and her skirt flared in ball-room style. Her silver ringlets were piled atop her head.

"Isn't that Arien next to Rufus?"

Reno grunted in response.

"I'm surprised you let her do that."

"Not without revenge, no."

Zen looked at his hero. Then comprehension dawned on him. "Ah."

"Tell me," Reno said after a few moments of just staring at the main couple, "Did you ever…?"

"Have anything to do with Arien? No." Zen shook his head. "After Darren died…"

Darren. He was like a stain, an ever-present reminder that perhaps, just perhaps, Arien really belonged to someone else.

"… I guess I could have gone out with her. But…"

"But what?"

"She's way beyond my league." Zen sighed. "She's too… she's too effective."

"Effective?"

"She'll always best me in everything we do," Zen explained. "Ivy's a beauty, but she'd never be a model."

Reno reflected back to the covert mission in which both were forced to "strut the runway" to hunt down the aftermath of one-night dalliance between a gold-digging model and the Old Shinra. He snorted. Then realized that he could snort because he himself had the looks to become a mannequin, and that he would have been daunted by the aspect of dating someone who could be branded as having the near-perfect body if he did not have the same. He began to understand Zen's fearful respect for her. For Reno, she was his daily life, a living, breathing thing with flaws. But for Zen, and possibly the rest of the Intel, she was just as remote as he was to them: bloodless figurines who had 100% hit rate in everything.

"Here you are," said Ivy with a smile, and Reno turned around and accepted the proffered glass with a thanks. He looked at Ivy again, but in a new light; no longer did she have everything that Arien did not. Ivy was as human as Arien was not. Ivy had flaws, limitations; Arien was man-made as much as he was. This broke their identity and rebuilt it anew into something else entirely, the acceptance of the unachievable perfection that they could achieve. Mako did that to you, made your skin flawless, stopped aging, stopped any sign of humanity, its flaws as well as its characteristics. Ivy would age, become an old woman; Arien would maintain her appearance even when she was fifty. Only her eyes would show her age, those blue grey eyes that had seen far too much to retain the innocence.

They all were, in the end. It was a folly to go through the mako treatment; it was giving up what they defined as humans to become man-made. For humanity meant one would age, feel the aging. But they would never again feel the years, would always dupe the time and retain a false youth. But because they were synthetic rubies now, not quite authentic, they would be burned out by the sun and what normal people deemed as beneficial. They were cold and naked in the sea of pain, seeking each other for warmth because there was no one else in the sea.

He looked back at her; Rufus, with his delicately chiseled face and his long, white silhouette, was offering Arien, his black counterpart, a drink like any man would his escort, and she was silently gesturing that she did not want any. A sardonic smile crept across Reno's face. These two were polite, reserved, well-mannered, high class people. Rufus was extending a hand with a glass toward her and she was refusing it with a minute shrug as if to say, "thank you, but I'm just fine as it is". In the meanwhile Reno belonged to a different world, with whores who batted their eyelashes to anyone and anything who might pay and smoke-filled bars.

The night progressed without any incident. He watched as the couples danced; Arien and Rufus both dutifully fulfilled their roles. Around one o'clock he saw Arien gesturing, and followed her into the bathroom after a quick cursory glance to see if anyone was watching. No one was.

"What?"

"Rufus gave me leave. Can we go?" She looked exhausted. "He knows you'll be taking me home. He's already notified Tseng."

"Is Rufus going?"

"Back to his hotel? Yes. Elena and Tseng are on duty." Leaning onto the sink she looked like a single black lily, stamens removed.

And so Reno took Arien back to the hotel; he was in such deep thought that he had ignored Arien completely, making her wonder if this was part of the punishment.

"Yoohoo! Earth to Reno. Is anybody in here?" Arien finally chirped into his ear. He jerked, then re-focused on the road.

"Er, what?"

"Oh, you were just being spacey." Arien sighed in relief.

"What did you think it was?"

"I don't know." She looked away. Reno felt the gulf of distrust expanding. They remained wordless all the way back to their room; without leave Arien immediately left to shower. He was left to stare at the black dress as the water noises began to seep through the walls and the doorway.

Suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, he began to strip, an idea in mind.

* * *

In the meanwhile, Arien was trying to wash away any hint of the blond president off her. She knew for certain that whatever Rufus might offer, if he did, Reno would far outweigh him. With Rufus she would forever be Arien DeVir, the well-mannered, well-raised woman; with Reno, on the other hand, she could just be Arien, just Arien, the woman who was barely out of girlhood. Reno had the capacity to support her when she was unsure, to lead her when she was lost. Rufus demanded perfection and nothing less, and she was not perfect.

She drew her breath when she felt a body behind her. Suddenly the water pressure was painful; the water was scalding. She did not move while his hands explored her body. A wet kiss planted behind her ear. She felt blood rise to her face. Unable to turn, unable to face those blue eyes that sought to torture her, she remained frozen in the shower, the hot water beating down on the skin.

"You like that, don't you…"

She ignored the whisper. She knew this was going to happen; she refused to acknowledge his presence. His arms were hard and muscular; she could feel him between her legs. His mouth whispering. She could no longer comprehend his words. All she knew was that she needed to get, or she'd pass out…

She woke up, her hair dripping wet, tied to the bed. She was stark naked. She raised her head – just barely – to see Reno sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed. Her face flamed.

"Awake yet?"

Hearing his voice, Arien closed her eyes. Reno was no longer pissed. No; he was going to have fun at her expense. Mentally preparing herself to a night of pleasurable torture during which she would be constantly held at bay without ever getting release, she wondered what she had done wrong to deserve such karma.

* * *

The water noise was audible from the hotel room; Reno sat quietly. The dress hung in the wardrobe, a black reminder of the hours when ostensibly Arien belonged to someone else.

No. No one would have her but him. She had led him a merry chase, teasing him then fleeing like a rabbit, dropping hints then pretending that she never dropped them… well, if catching his attention was her idea, she sure did a good job of it. And now she would pay for toying with him.

Not aware that Arien was not aware of what she was doing, his anger grew. He was not someone to be toyed with. No way. He was the one in control, the one who decided the direction of things. Not her. Not ever.

Let the punishment begin.

It was easy to sneak into the bathroom, and even easier to slip in behind her. She usually was lost in her own thoughts during shower, as she had once told him, and she did not realize that someone was behind her until it was too late. She gave no sign that she was aware of his presence except for a slight twitch; yet she kept on doing what she was doing, washing her face, rinsing her hair. He slid his hand between her lower limbs, caressed it, felt the slick fluid cover his fingers. He heard her gasp; it was more of a slip of a gasp, but it was still a gasp.

"You like that, don't you?"

No response. He moved his hand. Her legs jerked, and suddenly he felt her dead weight in his arms. Her eyes were closed; she had passed out from the heat. Her face was calm as if she was asleep, but her body told him that she was responsive, and even more responsive to his touch.

Dragging her out of the shower that had turned into a sauna, he threw her onto the bed, not bothering to dry her off. Her body glistened with sheen of water. She was thin; her limbs looked long. Spread onto the bed in an awkward manner, she was like a broken mannequin thrown onto the floor haphazardly.

Rummaging through the bags yielded a few large handkerchiefs and two ties. Quickly, with ease only Turks had, he tied her hands together then to the bed post. Her legs were spread, tied to the corners of the bed. His eyes caught a black choker she was wearing for the evening; grinning, he fastened it around her neck. Then, to achieve maximum embarrassment, he dressed himself and sat, watching her all the while. He wondered why he had done this. He had never done this before. Yet something about her made him want to tie her down, to bring her under his control.

It was only a few moments after he had sat down that she woke up. She struggled briefly, raised her head, then flopped back onto the bed as if she had given up.

"Awake yet?" He asked coolly. He knew she would not answer, would refuse to give into him. Which made the fun even more worthwhile. Sitting down next to her, he touched her, teasing her, making her squirm under him. Eventually her eyes closed – an unwitting defeat – and gradually her face began to look pained. For a few minutes the battle continued, then suddenly Arien's leg jerked.

He continued.

Her leg jerked again. Then, a desperate cry: "Reno, untie me! Please!"

"Nah."

Tears welled in her eyes. She flayed her legs to no avail. Leaning over her, he looked into her eyes, locked them.

"You want me."

She turned her head away. He jerked her head to make her face him.

"Say it."

"No!"

"Fine." He moved away, then he heard her desperate cry asking for him, begging for him. That was all he needed. That was all he desired.

* * *

Arien awoke next morning to find herself alone in bed. In terror, she sat up, saw the redhead smoking on the balcony. A gentle breeze played with his hair; he was topless. She was about to get out of bed when he noticed her and came into the room.

"Awake?"

A shy nod. Arien was still Anadiomene, with all the shyness and the embarrassment they had. Most women lost it when they shared bed with a man; yet Arien still had it, that shyness, that reluctance, that inability to face him. There were light pink bruises all over her body, like cherry blossom petals scattered across her skin. He himself sported several nail marks and scratch marks on his back; he smiled inwardly at her desperate attempt to control. Both their lips were slightly swollen. In the morning light, she was no longer the refined woman in the black silk, nor was she the crying female under him. She was Arien, just Arien, with her hard shell.

Yet Reno remained a sadist.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

Arien turned away. Reno had long ago learned that Arien always turned away when she did not want to answer a question; in this manner she was like a small child.

"You sure acted like you liked it, though."

"Shut up!" Arien cried almost reflexively. Reno chuckled.

"You liked it."

"Whatever."

"You sure moaned like you loved it."

Arien buried her face in the pillow, her face reddening. The truth was, she could not remember half the night except that excruciating agony of not being able to let go. Her body under his control, all she could do was shake and tremble as he drew her up to the summit without letting her fall. She could not even remember just how many times she had nearly passed out, only to be brought back by him stopping, just how many times she wanted to scream to release the tension but could not even do that, her voice choked from pure pleasure. The gossip was true; Reno knew how to deal with women in bed. His hands knew just where exactly to knead and caress, and when to stop to prevent her from climaxing. She hated him for that.

"You know," Arien said wryly, "if you lose this job, you can be a torture trainer."

Reno raised an eyebrow. "How come?"

"You sure tortured me last night."

Reno grinned, catching her drift. "I think I'll need a bit more practice to qualify, Arie."

She paled, understanding his implication. He gave her no moment to react as he closed her mouth with his. Locking his lips onto hers he pushed her down, feeling her breaths become a tiny bit faster, a tiny bit shallower. Her body arched against his; he felt her skin get warmer under his touch.

"Um, um…"

"Mmm?"

"Mmfggnnnm!"

Reno ignored her. He began again and she felt herself fall into the deepest abyss. Without even realizing, she gave up, and gave into whatever Reno forced upon her. Her dark hair, dried in tangles, spread onto the pillow. There was no way she would ever take the leads in this relationship. Reno was always one step ahead. All she could do was follow his piper's tune to wherever he led her.

Probably hell.

She felt herself stretched by him, the movement, the friction; then she opened her eyes and saw that his cool aquamarine eyes, usually cynical and all-seeing, derisive, had lost all its characteristics; all his control, his sarcasm, his aloofness from whatever he did was gone, filled with madness, that insane eagerness.

She felt a hint of despair. Just as she was ensnared by him, he was ensnared by her; once broken to become a Turk, they both had made their minds to face the world alone and to accept their fates if they did end up dying alone in the corner of a dark forlorn alley. Yet…

Yet they had fallen into each other's trap. She learned that a part of her had been secretly hoping for Reno to abandon her so that she could become alone again, to face the prospect of dying by herself again. But that hope was gone. Reno, in his sadistic possessiveness, would never let her go. Not now. Not when he had lost himself so completely in her.

Shit.

Then he rammed himself into her, more forcefully than ever, and she lost her train of thought. She felt herself break; not physically, no, but something broke within her.

_I'm in hell._

* * *

"Don't fall in love if you want to survive". That was what he had said when Reno had first joined the squad. And he had taken the lesson to his heart when Delara left him. He had thought he had learned the lesson. He had been shattered into pieces, and had rebuilt himself, piece by piece.

Apparently he had no learning abilities, as he found himself drowning in her.

Delara had left a scar on him. He had, consequently, left many scars on others. The wound had healed, the old romance folded into the book of his past like faded petals. But Arien was now, the reality.

_Stupid. Stupid stupid._

He could not stop himself from taking her, as if this was the only way to ascertain that she was still his. Her response was just as he remembered, timid, trying to fight for control and knowing it was a losing battle. Her voice was muffled, her lip bled as she bit them to stifle her moans.

When had he become so destructive? Did he want to destroy her because she threatened him? Her acceptance and her refusal threatened his identity, his self-awareness as what he thought he was: a cynical, aloof being who mocked everything that came across his path. He knew better. He always knew better. He knew better than to give his heart to someone. He knew better than…

He had not been so destructive with Delara. In fact, their relationship was quite normal, healthy even. Two lovers, loving each other, caring for each other, accepting each other…

Not so with Arien. It was a downward spiral to destruction.

_Shit._

Did he want to stop? Yes. Should he stop? Probably. Could he? No. He had tried to ignore her judgment, her scrutiny, and had failed. For some reason he cared what she thought of him. And he wanted her to exist solely for him, to laugh only when he desired it, to cry for him only. He wanted her so helpless without him that he even wanted her to not be able to breathe without his help.

Lashing out all his anger and frustration toward Arien, he hated her for divesting control from him, but loved her for doing just that.

_Dear God, if you do exist, please, please don't let me fall._


	18. 17: Ruptured

So sorry for the long hiatus. This semester got a bit insane. I know, I know, that's no excuse, but I also had a writer's block. So there.

Warning: Some sexuality in this chapter. If you are older than 15 you would get what they are doing. Please proceed at your own discretion.

Chapter 17: Ruptured

The next morning Arien sported a headache and a dry mouth that resembled suspiciously of a hangover. The flight home had resulted in exhausted Turks tumbling into bed and falling asleep without properly dressing. Irritated and in a bad mood, she stormed into the changing room only to overhear the rumours of the secretaries yet again. It mostly revolved around men that she knew, and occasionally very familiar names – Axil, Reno, Shiv, to name a few – popped up. Changing slowly from what substituted as her nightwear into her uniform, she listened.

"… I wonder why Reno…"

"I heard he's going out with someone now, from one of the upper floors…"

Arien snorted, pulling up her pantyhose.

"… But he has to be sleeping with someone else too, I heard that…"

"I wonder if he'll sleep with me if I asked…"

Suddenly a man's voice intruded. "Yeah, I'll fuck you."

Arien nearly tumbled over and slammed her hand into the wall to stop herself from falling over. Reno. Why on earth was he in the women's dressing room? Unless it was his morning ritual to saunter into the changing room, score a quickie with one of the secretaries then head upstairs. Despite his constant oath that he was celibate, there was an ounce of doubt within her. And she would not put it past him to do such thing. The women in the changing room, on the other hand, were squealing – or screaming, Arien could not tell – but they certainly did not sound disgusted.

She was just doing her tie when she realised that suddenly it was silent. Was Reno gagging the poor girl? Then the curtain opened and there was Reno. Realising that she must look silly and defenceless – she was in a shirt and pantyhose, with no trousers and a half-tied tie dangling around her neck, after all, cuffs undone – she asked, "can I help you?"

"Tseng just texted saying that the meeting is half an hour… why are you naked?"

"You couldn't have texted me?" She raised an eyebrow. "I mean… What are you doing!"

"Undressing you," he replied promptly. "Is there a problem?"

"There is. I'm trying to get dressed."

"Well, too bad." He threw the tie over her shoulder so that it would not hinder whatever he was doing. He unbuttoned her blouse, unhooked her bra before she could protest. Then she understood. He was here to do someone. It just happened that he wanted to do her.

Go figure.

He ripped her pantyhose. Why was this man so sexually active? She usually needed three cups of coffee to wake up; she had no motivation to do anything BUT wake up in the morning. Evidently he was so energetic he had enough to attempt in procreation.

"Would I need a shower after this?"

"Probably not. I'm not that rude."

"Yes, you are… Reno!" All of a sudden it had turned into sucky time and Reno was paying an unnatural amount of attention to her body. "Get off."

"Shh."

"Did you…"

"Shut up."

And then he was moving so violently she had to shut up.

"If we're late for the meeting…"

"Hey… no worries. I'm always… late."

"I'm… not."

"Well…" he stopped his breath. Then he slowly separated from her.

"I feel like I'm a sex toy," she complained as he zipped up. She was sitting on the wooden bench in the cubicle. "Go get tissues."

"Why?"

"Because it feels like you're still in me! Now go!"

Reno came back half a minute later armed with tissues, and watched as Arien tried to clean herself. He then watched her dress.

"Wonderful. Now we're late," she grumbled. "Next time, go screw a secretary."

"No thanks."

"Why not?"

"Because they like me screwing them in the cubicle!"

Arien sighed as she pressed the button on the elevator then swiped her card. Dating this man was a wrong choice.

* * *

"And so," Arien concluded over a cup of coffee, "that was that."

Ivy watched Arien as she sipped the dark liquid. Her mouth looked slightly swollen, and she saw a slightly pink mark on her neck. She was hiding it with her shirt collar, but when she moved her head Ivy could see it. Her wrist was slightly red, as if abrasion had left a red mark around her wrist. Was Reno being abusive? Ivy wondered, then thought it again. If Arien truly disliked something, she would just leave. So if Reno was being abusive, Arien did not have a problem with it.

"So, was it fun?" Ivy asked cautiously.

Arien paused. "No, not really," she said. "But I couldn't exactly run and hide… Hi, Rude."

Ivy turned, and saw the two Turks standing behind her. Reno and Rude. Arien's eyes were cool and calm, but Ivy did not miss the flash of emotion that passed over her face when she registered Reno's presence. For whatever reason Arien feared and loved him. He was the only one who could break her countenance. Yet she had not completely given in, still putting up a fight. And Reno, for whatever reason, seemed amused. Ivy noticed Arien twitch when Reno casually placed his hand on her shoulder. With Reno, Arien was almost emotionally naked, as if he managed to peel off her layers and expose what truly was beneath the façade. Yet Reno seemed to never know what she truly was feeling.

"Can we sit with you?" Reno asked.

"There is an entire hall filled with empty tables."

"I know that. I'd rather not eat with only Rude's mug as company. He ain't really appetizing."

Ivy laughed; Arien smiled. It was a wry kind of a smile, almost as if she did not trust him. And she probably did not, Ivy thought. She was too distrustful of men to actually expect them to stick around; Arien was like that. The more she loved somebody, the more she pushed them away, as if she was too scared to face the inevitable – that they would leave – and leave her shattered. She never seemed to consider the option that they would not leave.

Reno, of course, would not know that. Reno was the kind of a person who'd take things as it came. If a woman left him, he'd get drunk, get over it, and move on.

Would Reno stick around and yank Arien out of her solitary distrust, or would he find her a big hassle and leave?

Arien's guess was obvious. But Reno's?

"… Arie?"

Ivy refocused and found Reno trying to get his girlfriend's attention. But Arien's gaze was directed toward outside. She suddenly turned, and smiled. A fake smile, Ivy noted. The kind that can be easily formed by curving the lips. Her eyes were pensive and dark.

"Yes?"

Reno started to ask her a question. And Ivy thought she saw a hint of tear in her friend's eye.

* * *

The reason for her distrusting mood became evident a few days later. Ivy found her in the dining room as usual during lunch, reading a newspaper while eating. She slid into the seat across from her, and rustled the newspaper with her hand to grab her attention.

"Hello, Ivy."

"Where's Reno?"

"Gone."

"Gone where?"

"God knows." Arien shrugged, then folded the newspaper neatly. "I think to his ex-girlfriend's place."

"Arien, explain yourself."

"There's nothing to explain. He got a letter from his girlfriend. He ran off." Arien shrugged, then sliced a tomato with her knife. She speared a slice with her fork and carried it to her mouth, and chewed.

"And?"

"Well, I reported him to Tseng. We'll see."

Ivy knew what that meant. Turks never let the defectors go; they were hunted down and exterminated without question.

Arien had just signed a death sentence on him.

How on earth was she so detached? Ivy thought, then understood. Arien had expected this, expected him to leave, and had immediately switched Reno from "personal relationships" to "work". And then she had promptly reported that he had defected, as her duties prescribed her.

"Arien."

"Did you know that there's a military uprising in Mideel, but no one died?" Arien pointed to an article. "That's impressive."

"Arien!"

"What."

"Don't you care?"

Arien stared at Ivy, then smiled a bitter smile. In it were all her girlhood dreams, all her hopes for a family life. Then the smile was gone, and with it the castle in the air.

"And if I cared? What, then?" she asked back gently. "He's gone, Ivy. That's that. He wasn't the one to stick around to begin with. I am not going to beat myself up over him, nor am I going to grace him with any pity. We're just co-workers. And what he did… he knows what's coming."

She was smiling now, but Ivy knew she was going to cry when she returned to her abode; she could only cry during the darkest hours of the night, when no one knew. And then she'd wipe her tears and come into work the next morning. People thought she had no emotions and did not cry; but that was not the truth. She was so fragile, so sensitive, that she wore an armour to protect herself.

Arien would never open up to another man again. Her smile said that clearly. And she would exterminate any who would dare threaten her equilibrium.

Ivy sighed.

* * *

"We have a case."

Arien, Rude and Elena remained wordless. Then Elena piped up: "Details, sir?"

"Oh, Elena," Arien said, "it's autumn. You really think we need details? There are only two cases on hand: AVALANCHE or Reno. Methinks Reno, from Tseng's face."

"Arien guesses correct."

"Any reports from the Intel? I'd rather not comb the city for one man."

Despite the fact that the "one man" had once been central to her very existence, Arien kept a cool countenance. She was a Turk, which meant she was not going to do anything against the wishes of the person who issued her paycheck. But then again, she was a Turk; she was feared as the Gunslinger back in the Intel days; and well, job was a job. And so she continued on with her days, planning the attack. Extra caution was taken; things were planned so that any change could be fitted in. It was the fifth day since the meeting that a certain person called her.

"DeVir."

"Hey Arien."

"Hi, Jeremy." She smiled. Jeremy was a B rank officer in the Intel; she sometimes asked him for information. He was a good guy and generally fun to be with, and she liked him. He was also quite good-looking. "What's up?"

"Hey, wanna go out tonight?"

She looked at the calendar on her desktop. "Where?"

"There's a new club opening tonight."

"Um, okay." She wrote something into the desktop calendar. "What time?"

"Eleven."

So Arien was with Jeremy at eleven. She was fully aware why Jeremy had invited her; she needed it. After a few drinks at the bar, she wished Turks had lower tolerance for alcohol; she kept thinking about work and she knew she needed to get away from it.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yes." She handed the ticket to the usher. She distinctly felt his hand on her almost naked back as she checked her jacket in; it was warm, alive. And oh so seductive. She felt dirty. And she did not care.

After two hours of gyrating, Arien excused herself and got out of the dance floor. She was standing by the wall, watching people dance, when suddenly Jeremy's face appeared and she felt a pair of lips on hers.

"Jere…" She opened her mouth and felt his tongue slip in.

_What the hell,_ she thought. Reno was gone. He had officially ran off with another woman, abandoning his job, his life, and her. She was officially solo. He would not care if she slept with half the Midgar men tonight. She reciprocated the action, felt his hand snake up her shirt; his other hand held her wrists above her head.

Then out of the corner of the eye she caught a distinct redhead staring at her direction. Reno. With Delara, she assumed, since he was with a woman who resembled Elena so much she first thought it was Elena. In his eyes, anger.

Why should he get angry? She was not a possession. And for all that mattered he had left her. This meant he had no right to claim her in any way, shape or form. Hell, he wasn't even her boss anymore.

Then the red was gone, and she focused back to Jeremy, who was yanking her to a cubicle.

Why couldn't men around her have sex in bed for once?

* * *

Reno was pissed off. And in his opinion, rightly so.

It was not that they _broke up_. He had left, yes, but they had never severed their ties. And there she was, snogging a male. And he was certain she had seen him. Oh yes. But she did not react, did not respond, just continued with the activity.

If this was from anyone else Reno would have guessed petty vengeance. But this was Arien, and she was not the one to expend efforts on such things.

Of course, he could not ask her. He was certain that there was now a death warrant for him – he had not reported to duty in ten days now, which now removed him from the roster – and any Turk would shoot him on sight. He was not that bothered with the assassins, but asking her was just asking for trouble. No doubt Arien's lines would be tapped. So any communication with her was out.

So he did not even have time to be surprised when a shell embedded itself into his head.

* * *

"Mission completed."

"Report back to the HQ."

Arien sighed. Another mission over. Giving up on close combat with Reno, Arien had just simply opted to snipe the redheaded bastard down. And sure enough, he could not notice her stuck to the top of the building a mile away, aiming the rifle at his head.

Just to make sure, she had stashed her rifle in her case, then walked over to the redhead, and checked. Yep, dead. Arien was usually careful but with Reno she was doubly so, and with a good reason: Reno had notoriously good luck and she was NOT going to take any chances to have a big red FAIL stamped across her case report.

On the way back to the HQ she tried her hardest not to think about the last encounter he and she had, and tried even harder to ignore the gnawing numbness in her mind. She thought of the paperwork she had to do, the cleaning she had to do around her apartment, and unbidden, Jeremy came into her mind. His blond hair, his blue eyes, his hands… his grin as he had unzipped her blouse. He could not find appropriate measures to prevent any mishaps and therefore he did not get as far as he had wanted to, but she could see that if she allowed it he would have done it anyway.

The phone rang. Rude. Switching the case to her other hand she hit a button. "Yes, Rude?"

"Did you finish?"

"Yes, I did. I'm on my way back to the HQ right now."

"Tseng wants to see you as soon as you're back.

"Alright then." Wondering why Tseng could not just pick up the phone and call her himself, Arien unlocked the car door. Placing the rifle case on the passenger seat, she slid into the driver's seat. Slammed the door shut. Placing a pair of sunglasses onto her face, she revved the engine and slid out of the spot.

As soon as she returned, she reported to Tseng's office, who was sitting in front of his desk with a concern on his face. "How was it?" Tseng asked.

"Mission succeeded. Next assignment?"

"You're back on patrol duty. And remove Reno from the system."

"Yes sir." She turned to leave.

"Oh, and DeVir?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Well done."

She walked back to her office, then slumped into her seat. She was fatigued; whether from emotional strain or just the stress, she was not quite certain. She booted her computer, then proceeded to remove Reno's name from every roster that was on the system. She then had the task of cleaning his office out. She was just prepared to toss everything he owned down into the dust chute, then tell the cleaning staff to come in and disinfect everything.

Walking into the office next door, she began the task, throwing everything in the room formerly owned by Reno into a large bag. She then carried them into the dust chute, where they incinerated the things thrown out every evening. That being done, she placed a call and told the cleaning staff to come in and disinfect the room. The room looked oddly empty, as if Reno was silently protesting her actions, refusing to be forgotten. He was in the air, like a faint fragrance. His fragrance _was_ in the air.

And probably on herself.

She needed to dry-clean every piece of clothing she could not wash, and wash everything else when she got home.

It was sunset when she left her office. Closing the door, she leaned on it, breathed in deeply as if to compose herself, eyes closed. Rude thought he saw her wipe something away from her left eye, but then she was gone, her steps rapid as usual.

When she returned home, she cleaned the apartment, getting rid of everything that was not hers. She thought it might have been easier if someone else had helped her; but she did it by herself, not even able to cry. Her tears had dried up; she no longer had any to spare for anyone.

"Goodbye, Reno," she whispered as she threw the last bag away. The pain throbbed numbly; she squashed it.


	19. 18: Liar

Author: Evidently killing off a main character garners you loads of reviews. Maybe I should kill Reno off every other chapter to ensure a steady stream of reviews.

Reno: Yeah. Umm... how about... no.

Author: Why not? I'll bring you back to life by some deus ex machina every time you die!

Reno: Because I'd miss out on sex while I'm dead. See, necrophilia only works with a dead woman and a live dude. Not the other way around.

Arien: Forget it. I don't care if Reno dies with an erection. I'm not having sex with dead Reno.

I actually thought about writing a prologue and saying "THE END", but then I realised I'd probably get killed by Reno fans across the globe. So he shall live.

This was supposed to be released three days ago but I was too busy madly flirting with Gannayev from Neverwinter Nights 2 expansion pack. So apologies.

kaito: Yes, I killed him. Did I have fun? Sure I did. Did Arien have fun? Probably not. But then again she went out to party with Jeremy (who is actually based on one of my friends) so who knows. The Turks have wicked parties, and Arien is a Turk, so wicked parties it is. Speaking of parties, I haven't been to one in a while...

Katreda: At first, I wasn't sure. I actually considered just leaving him dead and writing "THE END". But then I figured this can be a turning point in the story and well, I didn't want to die yet and I was fairly certain Reno would kill me, so I resurrected him. Yey Phoenix Down! Except Aeris!

Opticon: He'll explain himself. Arien would probably not believe him. Which is the key of this novel I think; I'm trying to change the focus of this novel from "let's go adventure wheee" to "Can I trust this dirty sleazebag womanizer who slept with half the floor?". Will his explanation make sense? God knows.

Inheavenshands: Writing a pseudo-contemporary novel is really hard for me; my tone tends to flow towards Victorian with lengthy sentences and flowery adjectives. Exposition is my forte, and maybe dialogue when I have it flowing. So I really appreciate you appreciating my writing style. Thank you.

Echo: Yes, I made it different from the original. Back when I wrote that I was sixteen, just starting to be in a relationship and not really knowing what relationship was for me. I guess in a sense Arien is me, tentatively feeling around relationship and being scared of letting someone else into your mind. So I've changed as well.

WARNING: Some nudity, sexuality involved. You have been warned.

* * *

Chapter 18: Liar

A month had passed quietly; all mention of the redhead sent Arien back into her hermit shell, as Ivy called it; life was starting to pick up its pace again. Yet all the Turks knew that something was missing, a zing, and they knew exactly what.

On the other hand, the lower floor secretaries were bemoaning the loss of what Arien presumed to be a human version of a dildo. She heard all the gossips and rumours in the changing room, but kept herself aloof. She had nothing to compare to. Her only experiences were with one male and that hardly provided good comparison. But from the sounds of it, half the secretaries had a physical relationship with Reno at some point in their lives, and they all praised him, which garnered a much envious tone from the other, "non-experienced" secretaries. Evidently he was not as sadistic with them as he was with her. Arien raised an eyebrow at that, but kept it to herself.

It was such one cold morning – snow had just begun to fall – when she heard Tseng and Rude's voices on the way into her office, a coffee mug in hand.

"It was Reno, sir."

"DeVir executed him. How on earth…"

Arien paled and barged in without bothering to knock. "Please, for all the deities' sake, tell me I just misheard that."

"Rude insists he saw Reno walking around in Sector 5 yesterday afternoon."

Arien reeled back. "That's impossible! You do know he has a brother, correct?"

Rude looked at her. "With red tattoos?"

He had a point. Arien grimaced and looked to the heavens – or in this case, Tseng's ceiling – as if she hoped the ceiling would offer an answer. "Did I screw up?"

"Tell me honestly, DeVir," Tseng brought her back from a silent wallow of despair. "Did you really kill him?"

"I thought I did, sir. To be honest, if a bullet in his head didn't kill him, I don't know what will. I checked too."

"Odd." Tseng thought for a second. "Rude, I want you to investigate this case. Continue the patrols but you are exempted from security services until further notice. DeVir…"

Arien cringed. "Yes, sir."

"Did you delete his personality file?"

"No, sir. I just deleted his name from the roster."

"Good. Find the file." Tseng waved a hand, dismissing the two.

Arien and Rude left, each deep in their own thoughts. Arien was utterly disgusted. Not only did Reno completely ruin her ability to trust someone, he _had_ to come back to life after getting a bullet in the head, therefore putting a dent in her career. She tried to ignore the voice that told her she was happy that he was alive. After firmly telling the voice to drink a nice tall glass of shut the hell up, the voice finally fell silent. With a frown on her face that would have made anyone from the lower floors jump out of her way, she walked into the office and sat down in front of the computer. She now had the task of finding the file from the swirling vortex of entropy called the Shinra file server. It was not difficult to find a file if it was named properly, but she was fairly certain the personality folders belonging to Reno would have been deliberately misplaced after the news that he had left Shinra spread. Wonderful. She wondered what other kind of the proverbial excrement the day could throw at her, and she hoped to all the deities in the world the Rufus would not come down and order her to do something.

Tempted to check her inter-mail, she set onto work of finding Reno's personality folder, expecting to remain in the office until midnight.

* * *

Rude had an arduous task ahead of him. He was to find one man from an eight-million populated city.

He immediately called the attention of the Intel, who was at the Turks' disposal. They immediately set to work, picking up clues and following them like a hound on a blood trail. This was their job, and they exceled at it. But it took even them two weeks to encounter Reno.

The officer immediately placed a call to Rude, who in turn placed a call to Tseng, who ordered Rude and the Intel officers to bring Reno in. He then placed a call to Arien.

* * *

Arien, in the meanwhile, was out with Jeremy again at some after-party. Finding Reno's files had taken three days, not one, and then she was forced to catch up on work she was behind on. This had resulted in her madly trying to finish the stack of papers that had accumulated on her desk over the course of three days. That, in addition to the work that just came into her office everyday, had her stressed out and cranky. Ivy had asked Jeremy to take her out again, and so he did quite happily.

Her phone rang; leaving the dance floor, she ran outside and flipped her phone open. "DeVir."

"She took me down to the cubicle to slide through water on the floor…" the music was loud.

"DeVir, can you hear me?"

"Sorry, sir!" She found the boombox yelling "And everytime that the door bang she says 'Give me one more, give me one more'", and winced. "Hello?"

"Come in at once. We found him."

Half-intoxicated, Arien ransacked her befuddled brain to identify who "he" was. She came up blank.

"Who is he?"

She heard a sigh. "Reno."

"Oh."

"Come in at once."

"Err, yes sir." Ending the conversation, she ran back into the club. "Jeremy!"

"Yeah?"

"I need to get to the HQ. Work."

"Mmm. Too bad." He shoved his tongue into her mouth. "I'll go with you to the HQ. On one condition."

"Yes?"

"Come on…" he winked. "You know what I mean."

"Lemme think about it. Can we go now?"

While on the underground, Arien distinctly felt Jeremy pushing his hip against hers while they stood against the door; despite the late hour, the underground was jam-packed. A light kiss, then a deeper one. He was aroused.

"Jeremy?"

He kissed her collarbone.

"We need to get off."

"_I_ need to get off."

"Oh god…" she rolled her eyes.

She bade farewell to Jeremy at the station, then hurried over to the HQ. Swiping her ID, she pressed floor 46 as Tseng had told her. Looking into the black glass panel, she noticed that she looked slightly dishevelled, and ran her fingers through her hair. She noticed a dark pink splotch on her collarbone, then decided to do nothing about it. With any luck this "Reno" would be the wrong one.

Her hopes were dashed when she saw the male form on a white bed, hooked onto dozen tubes and cables. The wound that she had plastered away was about to split open again. Memories washed over her, the first time he had introduced himself as her superior, the night he had written his number on her with a marker… all the moments came back to her, hit her in full force. For a moment she wanted to turn her tail and run; but Tseng was looking at her with a puzzled expression and so she had to go in.

As soon as she came in she was ushered to the bedside. "Is this Reno?" Tseng asked.

How was she supposed to answer? She did not quite know; how was she supposed to answer that yes, this was the man who had loved her, lived with her, shared a bed every night, looked across the dinner table, been inside her, saved her life?

He looked innocent in the middle of the white sheet; he had lost some weight. That mouth that had met her own so many times, the voice that called her name, those hands that had touched every part of her body…

She could say no. That would probably cause a delay in anything that would follow afterward. Perhaps even turn him out onto the streets again. Or she could admit that yes, this was Reno. Which would mean tearing the bandage off and cutting open the wound so that she could clean it then suture it.

And that would hurt.

And then, even after he regained his facilities, who knew what would happen? Perhaps he would just go back to Delara, cutting open a new wound, which she'd have to bandage and wait for the wound to heal into a scar, and…

No. No, no, no!

But what if…

What if what?

Arien scrunched her eyes, trying to make her intoxicated brain to work. What would be safe? What would be the best? What would cause least harm? What would…

Oh, to hells with it. "This is," she blurted out. The entire room stared at her.

"This is?" Tseng echoed.

"Oh, for Shiva's sake, are you going to make me repeat it, sir? This is Reno. End of question." The drinks made her petulant; nobody seemed to notice it, since Tseng began barking orders to "download then upload the original file". Seeing that she was no longer needed, Arien slipped out, unseen.

* * *

The next day, Arien was summoned to Tseng's office, where the man was sitting with a grim expression on his face. Alarms immediately went off in her head, and she braced for whatever news Tseng had. Was she getting fired? Probably. Not only did Reno ruin her personal trust, he had also ruined her livelihood. Wonderful.

"Reno's personality is restored," Tseng began. Arien snapped back into reality, and jerked an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing.

"You are to take custody of him…"

"Wait a minute, what?"

Tseng was then strongly reminded of someone he had not seen in years in the shadow of her face. Her eyes did nothing to help him defeat the reminder. He shivered.

"You are to take full custody of Reno. He is within his full capacities, so I do not think you need to babysit him."

"And if he runs off again? Am I to chase him around Midgar and shoot him in the head again?" Arien's tone was bitter.

"That will be explained by the technician. Reno's waiting for you on floor 48."

"… Yes sir." She exited the room before anything else could be tagged onto her to-do list. Fuming, she went downstairs.

Reno was in the farthest room, sleeping in a bed. There was only one tube stuck into him in the wrist; he was covered in a blanket. Arien pulled up a chair and sat down gingerly, afraid that sudden motion may make her cry.

She was watching him when he opened his eyes. His cheeks had sunken a little, but his grin was still the same. "Hey yo," he said.

Grief, happiness, misery, doubt, all the emotions she had felt throughout the ordeal washed over her and came out as tears. He sat up, alarmed, as Arien burst into tears. "Dude, what's wrong?" He asked.

The technician came in. "Ah, you're awake," she nodded to the redhead. "Miss DeVir, there are few things I need to explain to you."

Not bothering to wipe her tears away, Arien left the bedside. "Yes?" She asked.

"We scanned his brain data. He is restored to the last scan date, which was a month ago. There was… a bomb planted inside."

Her tears stopped. "A bomb?"

"Yes. We…"

"Hold that thought. I think Tseng needs to know this." She began punching the keys away on her PDA. "Are you available tomorrow?"

The technician looked frustrated. "How about I just make a report and send it to you? Would that be better?"

"Yes."

"Very well. I shall do that. In the meanwhile…"

Arien nodded. "I'll take him home." She walked away from the technician. "Reno."

"Yeah?"

"Let's go home."

"Gotcha."

* * *

On the way to her car, she asked if he had been briefed on what had happened. He nodded.

"Everything?"

"Yeah. I even read your report. Nice job taking me down."

"… was that sarcasm?"

"Nah. I could kinda see that you weren't… well, you were jealous when you wrote that."

"Wait a minute… how…?" She sputtered. Reno usually acted as if these things went straight over his head.

"Just a hunch." Suddenly, she stopped and buried her face in his chest. "Whoa, whoa. What's up?"

"I've been living a torture for the past days!" Arien said angrily. "You leave me, then I kill you, then you come back from the dead. Not exactly in the job description."

"Yeah, well, whoever wrote the job description left out bunch of shit. It wasn't in my job description that I'd run off and get killed and then come back from the dead either! And fyi, it wasn't me who left."

Arien looked up. "What?"

Reno sighed exasperatedly. "I told you that I don't shit where I eat. Leaving Turks is just asking for trouble. Someone's good at mind controlling."

Arien's eyebrows shot up. "That's your excuse?"

"It's not. I'm just saying, I wouldn't have left if it was completely up to me. And no, before you ask, I have no feelings for Laney's sister. Not now." _Not with you around_, he added silently. Poor Arien. What a time she must have had, trying to follow orders while ignoring her desires. She never was good at it; most people just got over things and moved on. Arien dwelled on it, dissected it, analysed it, and then regretted even touching the incident.

"Arie?"

She looked up. Her mouth landed on his. Dressed in his girlfriend's long navy overcoat and jeans and nothing else, he should have felt cold, but instead he felt warmth.

"You missed me, didn't ya?"

She turned away. "No, I didn't."

"Liar." He smiled and whispered into her ear. "Liar…"

* * *

"Wow," Reno said as he looked around the apartment, "you really did a thorough job of tossing me out."

"I thought you weren't coming back," Arien said defensively.

"Well, you're gonna pay."

The woman turned away from hanging her coat on a hanger. "How?"

Reno grinned. "Like this."

The next moment, she was on the floor, with Reno on top.

"Wait… Reno, I need to get back to work…!"

"I made Tseng give you a day off."

"How… don't tug… at the belt!" Arien rolled to the left and hit her left foot into the coffee table. She winced in pain.

"I… told him… that we… needed to… sort some stuff… out." Reno was relentless. Arien scrambled to her feet, only to get it hooked out from under her. She landed on the floor with a crash. She scrambled to her feet again and made a dash to the bedroom, but before she could shut the door Reno was inside. And he had locked the door.

Seeing a predatory look in his eyes, she backed into the bed. She dived backwards but Reno was too fast. In a mad scramble her shirt was torn off, exposing a baby blue bra.

"Reno… stop!" She flung her body forward, only to be caught right into him. Her command went ignored as his hand unhooked her undergarment off.

"You missed me." He sneered.

"No, I did not."

"Fine. Another penalty." He unzipped her slacks, then yanked it off. "Tell me again. You missed me."

She twisted her body but his fingers hooked at her waistband. Instead of just taking her nylons off her underwear came off as well. She wiggled like a landed fish, squirming this way and that, trying to flee from his grasp. No success.

"Reno…"

"You missed me." He whispered into her ear then licked it. She shivered involuntarily. There were goosebumps all over her skin; whether from the coldness, excitement, or disgust he had no idea.

"Well, your lower half of the body's saying that you missed me," Reno grinned.

"Reno, let me go."

"Don't think so."

"I said…"

"Yeah, I heard you. And I said no."

This was a battle. Any other couple may have hugged and kissed, exchanged words of love. Not these two. Their lives were so ingrained to constant alert that they no longer remembered how to live "normally".

With Reno on the offensive, Arien eventually gave up. Reno had not been on the Turks for nothing; he knew exactly how to wear somebody down and eventually make them crack. She welcomed him into her arms reluctantly, afraid that if she touched him she would not be able to cope when he left the next time. She had been shattered once. Again would be her own stupidity.

She could admit now, she had missed him sorely. She had missed him every single moment, felt the gaping hole when she faced the empty bed, the unoccupied office next door. His grin, his hands, his voice were so central to her daily life that only when it was gone had she realized what it meant to her.

He was still Reno, the lively redhead with mischief in his eyes, not the angry man who glared at her nor the broken being in a swathe of white sheets. Reno, just as she had seen him during her Intel days. She had never actually expected to fall for the proverbial bad boy, but she had, and there was nothing that could be done; it was not by her own volition. She felt her walls coming down, one by one, not just because of the physical sensation but because she had finally understood what he was to her: a counterpart, the missing part of her. She was alright by herself, but somehow he made her more complete. He was her youth, the part of her life that she had thought she had sacrificed for her career, the last remnant of her teenage years that she had spent toiling to rise higher. He had reminded her that life was not just trying to climb higher but one could take a break once in a while, enjoy life as what it was.

And they were young forever. They would never mature, never grow old. Stuck in suspension in the time loop, Arien realized that no matter what she did her body would be stuck at this age until she died. There was no point looking back because she was not going forward; there was nothing to be learned. So she might just as well be honest for once and release herself from the manacles.

"Reno?"

Reno looked at her. There was a hint of sweetness in her voice, something he had never heard before in his life. A kittenish quality was about the way she looked at him and nestled her head against his arm. "Yeah?"

"I missed you."

"I knew it." His look told her he was satisfied.

Small words, big step.

"Hey, Arie?"

"Yes?"

"I want ice cream."

"There's one in the freezer."

Reno hopped out of bed like a small boy and made a mad dash for it. He came back armed with two spoons and a carton of ice cream. "Oh crap, this is cold," he said as he crawled back into the bed.

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to be washing these sheets tomorrow morning?"

"Because… oh shit." He had accidentally upturned the carton onto the bed. The ice cream did not fall out but the melted part smeared. "Crap."

The previous Arien would have gotten cross, but instead she just laughed. She grabbed a spoon, scooped out a liberal amount from the carton, and carried it into her mouth.

"Hey, Reno."

"Yeah?"

Reno felt her lips close in. It tasted of strawberries.


	20. 19: Abducted

I spent way too much time after the term ended playing games on my PC.

Oops.

Yes, I know, this chapter's an almost identical rehash. I just couldn't think of a way to redo this chapter in a new manner.

Reno: You're just lazy.  
Author: Shut up, or you won't get paid.

* * *

Chapter 19: Abducted

"It's to the west."

Elena pointed with a slender, manicured finger at a dilapidated building in the corner. Reno followed her finger with his gaze, and looked at the building with severe distaste; the building was more of wreckage, definitely having seen better days in the past. "Around there?" She asked, a little too shrill to his ears. But then, Elena was short compared to Arien; Arien's voice was a deep alto, and quiet. He guessed he was used to Arien's voice too much that high voices sounded a little shrill.

Reno nodded. "We'll standby."

Rude said nothing, but the raven-haired woman who was still sitting in the back seat of the car was not silent. Arien was not loud, but she made sure her opinions were heard when she had them. "You're sending us – females – into danger while you two stay in safety?" Eyebrows shot up to the hairline.

"Arie, it's just a scouting. Unless you two are too wimpy to do simple scouting..."

"No, we aren't!" Elena protested. Arien glared.

"At least this'll be the first time I don't have to whore myself," Arien said testily as she climbed out of the car, her khaki trench coat sitting stiffly around her shoulders. She cast a sideway glance at the second-in-command accusingly.

Reno glared back.

Few weeks into Rufus' presidency, the Turks found themselves amidst the havoc and mayhem that had suddenly sprouted in the Shinra Headquarters. With AVALANCHE terrorizing Midgar and Sephiroth stabbing the former president to death, the headquarters were upturned and chaos reigned supreme in the offices. The Intelligence had never had busier days; the Turks were being assigned one thing after another so fast that they could hardly sit. Being the most physically fit executives of the Shinra Company, they usually carried out orders issued by Palmer, Heidegger, or Scarlet. There was not a day that all members of the Turks were present; they flew around the world, to the northern continent, to the Cosmo Area, trying to eliminate terrorists and do other dirty jobs for the company. With AVALANCHE running around, Sephiroth dragging Masamune – and death – behind him wherever he went, and Hojo disappearing out of the blue without any trace, the Turks were always on alert.

Because of the increase of tasks for the Turks, Rufus' guard duty became everyone's duty in a matter of day, and for that, Reno was thankful. Arien's distaste for the blond went further than the oceans; she always came home in an irritable, bad mood after being on the guard duty of the young president. Most likely his behaviour and the fact that she did not agree to this at the time of contract annoyed her to no end. That was fine, but having irritable Arien around meant that Reno had to be on all-time alert – you never really knew when she'd explode for something that was minute, like not waiting for her when they went to sleep. Arien's temper was so foul that Reno had finally appealed to Tseng that neither she nor he could take it anymore. But after Rufus' guard duty became everyone's, life became much better.

The cleansing assignment came to Turks from Rufus himself ten days before; quite simply, they were ordered to clean out the slums to prevent further terrorist attacks. This, as they quickly discovered, was harder than it seemed; first it involved pinpointing the target base, then they had to go in and destroy the hideout discreetly and systematically, without causing too much commotion. Usually, this involved two day process, but today they were ordered to do it in a day. So everyone was rather tense. Here they were, at the close location to the suspected hideout. Elena, Rude, and Reno, and Arien were out of the car, leaning onto the doors and looking around warily. Rude was looking to the distance; Reno was smoking languidly. Elena kept looking around, looking a little nervous. Arien leaned onto the car with her back, nonchalantly loading bullets into her Sig.

"We gotta keep out of trouble," Reno said as he flicked the cigarette onto the ground; he was a little subdued because there was absolutely nothing to amuse him here. There wasn't even a bar. Reno liked the slums – it used to be his home, after all – but this place _sucked_. Without a bar or a girl, how was he supposed to amuse himself? Masturbate?

Hell no.

Rude snorted. He was personally ordered from Tseng to keep watch on Reno, who was always looking for entertainment; Reno in action was a formidable opponent and he sincerely hoped he would always be Reno's friend till the end of his days, but when Reno was bored, nothing stopped him from wandering off, usually coming back few hours later, fleeing from someone who was more than ready to flay his skin. Usual Reno was fun, amusing even; but when he was hyperactive, nothing stopped him. Rude had no idea how he would _keep watch_ on Reno, short of handcuffs or a leash. But considering it was Reno, handcuffs probably won't keep him still. The bald Turk sighed, dreading the assignment.

"Alright, girls," Reno said cheerfully as Elena frowned. Arien's face did not move; she was already used to Reno's constant reference to them as 'girls'. "Usual schmuck, come back as soon as you can after contacting us when you find the hideout, okay?"

"Roger." Elena replied. Arien remained silent.

"Right. Off you go, then, and remember to holler when you're in trouble." He slapped Arien's shoulder fondly. "Good luck, mate. Did you remember to unlock the safety?"

Arien looked at him, a slight smile curling her lips. "We're off," she told him. "Remember not to rape a random girl just because she has breasts the size of your ego."

"Hey!"

The two disappeared as the fog slowly masked the women into white nothingness. Reno watched them go, a slight sneer on his face. He was a little worried about Elena – she tended to be overeager and either did things too much or too little, which caused problems – but Arien did alright usually. She was in the Intelligence before; snooping was her specialty.

An hour passed; Rude and Reno sat mutely in the car, waiting for the call. Rude was sitting up, looking around from the driver's seat, his expression not visible with his sunglasses. Reno reclined the passenger seat, lighted a cigarette, and slowly inhaled, closing his eyes. He was tired; waking up was not his favourite activity to do. And Arien promptly yelled at him around midnight for creeping up then coming back. Arien, a light sleeper, woke up with the huge thump as the redhead placed his bottom on the bed. She had been tired after Reno's constant attention, and had just nodded off. Reno knew better than to fight her, and just let her steam off.

Minutes passed in silence, the smoke wandering out the window. A light breeze fluttered occasionally, gently touching Reno's snippets of hair, making it dance in the wind. The smoke drew grey patterns in the air, its haze surround the two Turks.

"Hey Reno," said Rude.

Reno, who was in a reverie, started at the rare voice of his partner. He sat up from the reclining seat, one hand on the seat to support him, the other holding the cigarette. "Yo, what?" he asked curiously. It was very rare for Rude to fill the verbal quota so early in the day.

"Why do you think Rufus had Arien as his bodyguard?" he asked.

Reno thought for a moment. "Tseng," he said finally.

"What?"

"You were chasing AVALANCHE, I was doing small tasks, Elena wasn't a Turk yet, and Tseng's a boss so he gets to sit behind that stupid mahogany desk and gloat all day unless everyone's out, like today. Arien was the one left..." He let it trail off with a negligent wave of his hand.

"Hmm," was all that his burly companion offered.

"What?" Reno looked at him. "You think Rufus had hots for her or somethin'?" He grinned. 'Rufus'll marry some nice, rich, well-brought up, noble-blooded, bubbleheaded chick, Rude. Not an assassin. Besides, she's mine, and the entire Shinra knows that damn well." And that was true enough. The Shinra Rumour Mill had spun out many stories about Reno in the past, but the woman who had managed to capture him for this long was a first. And a man to capture the Gunslinger for this long was also a first. It was a delicious piece of gossip for the Shinra workers. It did not help anything that a few people had seen Reno coming out of the women's dressing room, zipping up his trousers, followed immediately by Arien, who was looking fatigued.

Rude decided not to comment. Knowing Reno, god only knew what kind of life Arien led. Although she was discreet about her sex life, Reno wasn't. And she was making too easy of a transition to be the heart of the wickedness of the slums for Rude to believe that she didn't have any help. She knew too much of the black trade, the hyper-addicts and the whore-trade for Rude to be comfortable.

"..."

"Is that it? Okay. Beddy-bye then." Reno flopped back onto the seat. "Nighty night, Rudy-baby. Yell when you get attacked by a bear or somethin'."

Reno went back to sleep; Rude continued to watch outside behind the shades. He was unusually pensive, Reno noticed, and he wondered a little about it, but he soon shrugged it off. What could he do? Nothing. Better catch some sleep before Elena or Arien starts yelling at them for being late.

Rude sat, quietly, as his friend fell asleep. In his mind was a raven-haired woman – not the Turk with icy blue-green eyes and occasionally a temper to match Reno's hair, but another raven-haired woman, with brown, bright eyes, porcelain skin, and a sweet, courageous smile.

He sighed.

* * *

A cell phone rang out all too loudly in the car, and Reno shot up, looking around wildly for his phone. He found it in the glove compartment; with a fluid motion, he flipped it open. "Renaldo's Pizza Delivery."

"Reno, I got a lead. I'll be back in about ten minutes." It was Arien; her low voice and her no-nonsense way of talking identified her immediately. "Get ready. We can all go when we come back."

"Okay."

Shutting his phone, he turned to Rude. "Got contact."

Rude nodded silently. By holy, Rude was moody today. Reno shrugged. Opening the door, he stretched his long legs. "Man, it's stuffy here," he complained. "I'm going for a stroll."

Another silence. "Well, don't start blabbing at once," he said testily. "See ya later, Rudy-baby."

With that, he was gone.

Rude sighed again. Reno proved to be a trustworthy partner and an amusing entertainment, but too much exposure to him was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, Reno usually got bored before he reached that point. Like today. Rude stood, his spiffy shades in place, observing anything that moved.

Time passed without anything happening, including Reno returning. Nothing happened, then something was moving in the distance. Rude watched the moving figure, until he saw the blonde hair. It was Elena.

"I got a lead, I think. Where's the two?" Elena said breathlessly.

"Reno went for a stroll. Arien gave us contact, but she's..."

"I'm here," Reno popped up from nowhere. "Nothing interesting. Saw a couple fucking on the street. Man, even _I_ didn't do that." He chuckled. "Where's Arie? She should be back here by now. She gave me a call telling me she was coming back."

"Uh..." Rude adjusted his shades. "Arien's not back yet."

"I didn't see her when I was coming back," Elena offered.

"She's usually good with time..." Reno frowned. "That's unlikely."

The three looked at each other.

"Think she's in trouble?"

Reno shook his head. Arien was not a demure woman; she was a fighter and a smart one at that, and was capable of taking care of herself. He doubted she was in trouble. But then, she was late. Very late. That was unlikely of her. Suddenly, his cell phone jangled. Flipping the phone open, he spoke into the phone, "Reno."

Rude and Elena were still talking. "Maybe she found another place to check out."

"I doubt that," Rude shook his head. "Arien's punctual, and she won't call us telling that she's coming back until she's satisfied with her work."

"That means..."

"WHAT!" Reno screamed suddenly, his face ghostly pale. Elena and Rude looked at him, startled at the urgency and despair in his voice.

"Reno... are you alright?" Elena asked timidly.

"Oh Arie... no... no!" Reno mouthed. "Fuck... FUCK. I'm going to kill that bastard!"

"Reno! Chill!" Rude cried, holding the shoulder of the redhead who looked really ready to kill. "You aren't going anywhere. Renaldo, for Holy's sake, calm down! I'll have to take you down if you don't stop wiggling."

"Let me go, bastard! I'm going to kill him!"

"Reno! Chill! Who was that on the phone?" Rude grabbed his arm.

"That was from Zen Flescher... you know, the lieutenant from the Intelligence... they were on the patrol" Reno breathed. "Arien got kidnapped..."

"By who?" Elena asked.

"Well, some sector garbage, but Zen said that Hojo's behind the entire shindig... by Holy, he's going to be sorry Sephiroth didn't off him..."

"Why would Arien be taken out by sector garbage? And why is Hojo behind this? Hojo's gone!" Elena asked.

"Because even the Turks would get beaten up by twenty garbages... and Hojo wants a lab rat, and Arien fits his requirement of a specimen. Hojo might not want Arie anymore, but his faithful assistant didn't hear anything from Hojo, so the stupid douche thought she would make a nice bait to bring his beloved fuckbag back. Fucking prick." He started to run.

"Reno!" Elena cried, but Rude shook his head.

"Let him go."

"But..."

"You think he'd listen?"

No; of course not. Reno never listened to anyone.

And he would certainly not listen this time. Elena had seen Reno get angry only once in her life, but this was worse than that. There were also myriad of emotions in his eyes; rage, fear, despair, hope. It was not the Reno she knew. It was an entirely new face of him, darker than she had seen, more serious, more desperate. Elena suddenly understood why Arien loved him so much. They were both hurt by so many things in life, which gave them a cynical outlook on life. They didn't care. They hadn't cared. Until now.

She had found someone who cared about her, who could make her relax, who could understand when she had the urge to cry for no reason, someone who would always protect her. And Reno had found someone who would always be there for him; she would not die, nor would she flee. She was like a good friend, always walking beside him, cheering him on when he felt like a failure, giving him advice when he was lost. They were the counterparts of each other. He learned that he could not be careless about his life, because she would be in the flat, worried sick, wondering where he was; and Arien knew that she'd better come back in one piece, otherwise Reno would fuss.

Was this the price of being a Turk? So many hurts and blood and tears? Elena shivered. Whether it was because the weather was a little chilly or because of something else, she didn't know.

* * *

It was too late.

When Reno got to the location that Zen gave him, no one was there. There were telltale signs of struggles; there was blood on the floor, and he sincerely hoped it wasn't Arien's. He found her thin chain on the ground, the very one that he had given her on one of the dates before they started to live together. He picked it up, remembering the silver chain around Arien's neck. The delicate silver chain had sat around Arien's throat peacefully, whole, always with her. And now it was ripped from her slender neck, broken. The silver gleamed in the faint light, an object reminiscent of the faded dreams.

Reno could not believe it. Nor did he want to. He did not want to believe that this was real; he would wake up in their bed, with Arien next to him, sleeping. He tried to believe that the chill wind that mocked him was not real, the chain he held in his hand was not real. It did not work. No matter what he tried to believe, Arien was gone, and she was not going to call him or kiss him or yell at him.

He cursed his stupidity. For Reno, Arien was a being that was just there; she was part of his life, someone that he needed to see everyday to survive. She came unobtrusively into his life, without making a dramatic entrance or having fanfare at her back, and he did not really realize how much she had permeated through aspects of his living.

She was not gone. She would be sleeping next to him. He would smell her familiar scent, feel her soft hair, see her sleeping face – that face that still retained the innocence of girlhood, her arm cradling her face like she was a small girl who was hiding in the corner to cry.

Reality defeated his wish. Reno stood, rage slowly turning into sky blue despair. His mouth twitched, but no sound came out. He saw two figures running toward him, but he made no movement to get ready to defend himself.

Rude and Elena caught up finally, both panting.

"Re...?" Elena asked gently.

_If I were faster_... _if I went with her_... _goddamn it! Why her!_ He suddenly remembered Vincent Valentine, a former Turk, who worked for Shinra over half a century ago. He was caught by Hojo as well. And nobody ever saw him again.

Was he going to see Arien again? Ever?

"Re!"

_Fucking Hojo... _his anger was inexplicable by words. All of a sudden he exploded. "Goddamn son of a bitch, you frigging asswipe, why HER!" Reno shouted, smashing his fist into a nearby building wall and kicking it with all his might. The pain in his hand seemed to alleviate the emptiness in his mind – a little. Not a lot, but a little. But it was better than nothing.

"Re!"

"Leave me alone!" Reno screamed, fleeing. The chain in his hand trailed behind him in a silver gleam. He had to run, but running did not help. He continued on, hoping for a release, finding none. The pain was numbing, made him feel cold. The wind blew mockingly, laughing at his fate.


	21. 20: Many Goodbyes

Okay, this took a loooooooong time to write... or not. Actually, I couldn't decide how to end this chapter, and then summer school started, and I was ensconced in the lab, trying to sequence zebrafish genes. I'm turning into a veritable Hojo (and I'll let you guys know when I create Sephiroth, so we can get the first digs).

Anyhow, I hope someone's reading this... otherwise I'll just end it right here (which I can, you know. Love thwarted! Oh the tears.)

Riann13: Thank you! I hope this loong, arduous, sporadic writing is somehow going to make up. I'm trying to make it with a little less deus ex machina. My grammar has improved dramatically, probably since I've been writing papers for the last five years.

Echo: I'm alive! But barely. Research is running me to the ground, someone tripped me on the train while I was in 5 inch heels, my manager thinks I need to lose 20lb (and to be honest, I agree)... so it's a tough summer. But hey, Reno's probably having it tougher.

20: Many Goodbyes

Contrary to what Reno had feared, it was not Arien's blood on the floor. She did, however, put up an awful lot of fight before she went down. Unbeknownst to Rufus Shinra, the company was now missing six members of the military personnel, four more were in the hospital for gunshot wounds, one had a broken arm, and another had a concussion. If Arien was going down, she was going to bring plenty along with her.

She had seen them coming in advance, but it was too late to flee; besides, she was backed into a warehouse and fleeing meant running at them, which was not in her options. Taking down a dozen men was impossible, even for a Turk. So she did the only thing she could do; run into the warehouse. Calling Reno was also out of option, for she needed to take them unawares. She doubted anyone had Rude's ears in the squad, but taking chances was not smart when one was driven into the corner. She needed to be extra careful.

Slowly backing into the empty warehouse, she closed the door behind her. Barricading was the first thing to do; thankfully there were dilapidated furniture lying around, so she managed to close off the doorway with relative ease. Checking her mobile, she discovered some idiot – probably in the squad – was disrupting the reception of her phone, making it utterly useless. Calling for help was now completely out.

She decided that doing hand to hand combat was definitely going to get her killed. Wishing that she was armed with a rifle and not pistols, she climbed atop the barricade she had just created, then started crawling across the ceiling beams. It was a slow and precarious task, but one had to do what one had to do when life was on the line. And she was NOT going to die at the hands of these second-class idiots.

Where should she go? She pondered. Corner was not a good idea; she'd have no place to run if she fell. Up against the wall was also out. She decided to stay in the very centre of the room; thankfully it was dark, the sun was not out, it was cloudy, and she hoped no one else had a vision of her level. Then, guns poised, she waited, wishing that she had Reno's balance. Reno could probably breakdance on these beams. She certainly could not.

Adrenaline was pumping; her vision was more acute than usual. She could hear things in the silence, smell the rust from the air below. She was crouching on a six inch beam, sunglasses on her nose in lieu of goggles – she now understood why Reno perpetually had goggles on his forehead – just in case those bastards used tear gas, her left foot tied to the beam with her tie, her shirt sleeve cut off and tied around her nose and mouth, hair in a messy bun and phone turned off. This was ridiculous. Attaching silencers and hoping to every deity that mankind had invented within the past three thousand years that she had enough bullets, she waited for her prey. If Reno had taught her anything it was this: don't be preyed, become the predator. And that credo had kept Reno alive far longer than she could hope for.

And then, it was over. Suddenly there was banging on the door, then yells, then more banging on the door. She thanked the fool who had hired them; they were complete amateurs. You did not yell and then barge in, you barged in without any introduction to seize the element of surprise. Somebody broke the window and threw in canisters of tear gas. She saw that one coming. When another package got thrown in, she held onto the beam, praying that she would not fall off. She had no idea what that package was, but she had a good idea that it was probably explosives. That was what she would have done.

Sure enough, the package exploded; Arien held on with her dear life. There was thick smoke everywhere, filling the air with the smell of pepper. Trying not to breathe in, she waited for the smoke to thin out, took an aim, and pulled the trigger.

The man went down without as much as a gurgle; the bullet had gone cleanly into the head, instantly killing him.

It was her fourth man who had spotted her. She had managed to take him down, but not before he shouted out a warning. She had managed to shut him up midsentence, but her location was already out. This was now a contest of speed, not subtlety.

Slashing her tie, she jumped down, shooting the lights out as she went. Darkness would be her friend. Men rushed in, thinking to overwhelm her; she did a double backhand shot with her right while shooting the man to the left with her left; the left went down, quite dead, and she heard a groan behind her. She snapped her wrist and hit a man who was literally trying to carry her off behind the neck with a straight chop with such force that she heard a nasty crunch. six dead, one down, six more to go. With a clean move, she reloaded her Colt then shot someone twice – she could not see with all the smoke – in the general body area with her Sig Sauer. One more down. Five more to go. On instinct, she shot a beam above her head where the wood looked rotten. One shot did nothing; she squeezed the trigger again. Sure enough, it fell with a loud thump, creating a temporary obstacle between her and her enemies. She backstepped, thinking. She was out of ammunition in her Sig, and by her count she was down to five rounds plus one in the chamber in her Colt. She'd better be efficient or she was dead.

Two rounds went into a tall man in the stomach area; another got hit in the chest and the stomach. Using four rounds on two people was just bad aim for her, and she grimaced as she counted silently. This meant she would have to go into close quarter combat. Her eyes were tearing, and she coughed quietly, trying to not breathe in the fumes. A shadow darted, and she shot. It stumbled. Another shot, and it went down.

She was out of ammunition. She threw her pistols out of the way – she'd pick them up later – and just whirled in time, her leg up, to kick someone. Her leg made a solid contact with an arm, and she heard the bone crunch. A male voice screamed. A chair whipped just above her head as she ducked; her foot swiped cleanly, pulling the man down by taking his feet from under him. His head hit the floor with a thud.

She had just whirled again when a piece of large plywood came toward her face. She barely saw the wielder of the plywood – his right arm now rendered useless – when pain exploded in her head. And then it was black.

* * *

"Hey, Zen! Isn't that Arien being carried off?"

The blond man turned toward Axil, who looked like a wary goth in the dark light of the slums. If Zen Fletcher was the day, Axil Dalrith was the night, and they even dressed the part. But they were the best of friends, and they worked together often enough to be trusted with the most guarded of secrets that were handed to the Intelligence. As Renee, the head of Intelligence, often thought, Arien had trained her partner well. And Zen, in turn, had tempered a wild, troubled teenager into a street-smart agent.

"Erm." Zen squinted. Sure enough, that woman being carried away was about Arien's height, and she was dressed in Turks' uniform. Even worse, the loose strands that fell onto the man's front was definitely long enough to be Arien's. This looked suspicious.

"Hey, is there a bino?"

Axil handed a pair of binoculars to Zen, who brought it to his face. Adjusting the dials, he focused on the man and the woman. The man looked as if he was in pain, and the woman was unconscious.

"Is the dude Reno?"

Zen shook his head. The man had brown hair, as opposed to Reno's flaming red; nor did he have Reno's walk. Reno walked with a slight swagger, as if his entire body said "I'm too cool for this shit". This man was beaten, was in pain, and was clearly not pleased with the luggage on his back. Besides, Reno would never have hoisted Arien up on his shoulder like that. There was far too much sexual… something between them for that to happen.

Something wasn't right. Even if this was a ruse, better be safe than sorry. He pulled out his phone. Reno had given him his number without much thought after Zen had asked him with trepidation. He now felt his query justified. Reno picked up after the fifth ring, right before it went to voicemail.

"Yo, Zen."

"Reno, are you on some covert mission?"

Reno sounded cheerful. "Nope. Why?"

Zen had a bad feeling. A really bad one. And Arien had told him repeatedly to go along with those "bad feelings", because they generally turned out to be true. "I just saw a man carrying her off."

He knew he had made the correct decision when Reno hollered, "WHAT!"

Axil, who was on the laptop, tapped Zen's shoulder. "Hold on, Reno." He quickly scanned through the order. "Reno, it looks like Hojo's team placed a capture order for Arien. Did you know anything about this?"

Zen could hear Elena's voice in the background. And then, Reno's wail of despair. "Oh Arie... no... no!" And then the conversation ended.

"Axil." Zen muttered, staring at the screen which said, "TOTAL CALL TIME: 1:43".

"Yo!" The goth replied happily.

"We're going back to the HQ. We have a problem."

* * *

Arien awoke with a headache that vaguely resembled an elephadunk doing the hustle on her head. Her neck hurt as well; the room was dark. She was lying on the bed, but it could not be her bed; her bed was not this scratchy. She rolled over, seeking warmth from Reno's body, and felt nothing but air.

Suddenly, everything came back to her. Panicking, she sat up, and nearly screamed when she saw that her arm was now sprouting five tubes which went up into different medication bags. Bile came up into her mouth and she vomited on the floor. Her mouth tasted bitter, and her hands were clammy. Fear was choking her.

Someone had made her change into a hospital gown; her feet were bare. Slowly, grimacing in pain, she landed on the floor with a soft pat; her bare feet felt the linoleum on the floor. It felt like a hospital, but she would have laughed if that git had carried her to a hospital. No. This was no institution for medical care. Which only left one place.

Hojo.

Arien paled to a deathly white this time. She had to get out of here, or die trying. She would be dead anyway if she didn't get out. Or worse, turned into some ridiculous monster. Rumour had it that Hojo had tried to _breed_ a freakish dog and a humanoid; although she generally believed Reno's theory that Hojo was just one sick bastard who wanted a homemade video of bestial pornography, there was also the possibility that Hojo never took a class in elementary genetics and that he truly believed a dog and a humanoid could breed. Or perhaps he thought he was a genius enough to make meiosis occur without matching chromosome numbers. Whatever he thought, he wasn't sane.

But how was she to get out? She had been stripped naked, even her earrings were gone; not that it would have helped her anyway, since the door was electronically locked. There were no windows, and the walls had no adornment, not even a clock. She had no idea how long she had been out, but by the feel of the growth of her eyebrows, it had been at least two days. Reno would have probably gone postal and shot someone by now.

Argh.

The door panel slid open, and a man entered. He was tall and lanky, not at all like Hojo; Hojo, at least, had an insane zealous light in his eyes that he had long ago lost his sanity to the pursuit of science. This man was different. His eyes had a mixture of that insanity, but also a very secular kind of sanity, the kind that Reno had when he took her. This man was dangerous, and Arien knew it. She could handle Reno, partly because she loved him, partly because he kept a line and never dared to cross it with her. He did take a perverse joy in making her admit and be aware that she was just as a wanton being as he was, but he had never taken her just for his pleasure. He did not work like that, not with her.

"You really are fine-looking," he observed. "Bonus for me, I suppose."

Arien did not move.

"Did you know you're related to the unlamented general? Perhaps that is where your beauty comes from…" he touched her face.

She knew that. Her mother, who was half-Wutaian and half-Orient, was the cousin of Lucrecia Crescent. That was the reason her father decided to work for the company to begin with. But then again, her mother's family was huge, so the "unlamented general" had quite a lot of relatives in that sense.

No, she did not look like the late Sephiroth. Reno would have noticed; he had worked with the general for a while, after all.

"Well… it's not like anyone would notice…"

"Why me?" she asked.

"Well… you seem uptight, and it's always fun to force a woman rather than make her come willingly."

Uptight? Arien nearly burst out laughing. Uptight, being with Reno? If that was not a joke, she didn't know what was. Reno had found a sure way to prevent cheating on her side: make sure your woman is so occupied with your antics that she'd be too tired to turn elsewhere. Reno may be sterile, but he sure had the instincts to prove otherwise.

She smiled bitterly. Whether she liked it or not, that virgin Arien was gone. God, why did men seek to use her for their pleasure? First Reno, then this crazy nerd. If God created women, he had made them carry an enormous weight. At that moment, Arien hated her sexuality.

"Go ahead," she said carelessly.

"What?"

She smiled. "Do you really think that a Turk can be _upright_? I thought you'd be a bit wiser, doctor." She stretched. "We kill. We drink. We do illegal drugs. Did you really think we'd abstain from sex? Don't be silly, dear."

"But…"

"I guess you won't get the 'force an unwilling woman' fantasy. Sorry." She got off the bed and began to take off the gown, then stopped. "Come on, what are you waiting for?"

She was tired of this. She was tired of men using her, leaving her. Even Darren left her without discussing anything. One moment, alive, next moment, gone. Then along came hurricane Reno, who turned her life upside down, scrambled her inside out, all the while smiling. Then Jeremy. Then this lunatic…

Enough was enough.

Of course, she was not aware of just why exactly men did this to her. A lot of women in the Shinra HQ would have loved for all the attention Arien was getting, and Reno would have said breezily that this was completely her fault, that her intricate dance of dangerous liaisons was the reason she was burned. She played with fire, what was she expecting?

Then the scientist turned and left.

Arien went back to bed, sighing in relief. One hazard defeated. She figured that since she couldn't do anything, the best thing she could do was preserve her energy. She probably couldn't trust the food to be untouched, so eating was out; she'd have to survive without nourishment. She hoped that something would happen before she starved to death.

The food was, in fact, brought in by a robotic arm; a few hours after Arien had gotten out of her half-coma sleep, the flap at the bottom of what she assumed to be a door opened, and a robotic arm simply pushed a tray inside. Then it slammed shut. Arien gave up on killing an orderly and escaping. There was no way on earth she would have fit through the flap. She was thin, yes, but not _that_ thin.

* * *

So she waited in her bed silently. Whether she was waiting for death or rescue, she wasn't certain.

The rescue came, abruptly, a week later. In the shape of her younger sister.

She was lying in bed, half in a coma. She had not eaten in a week; her mako-enhanced metabolism burned fat very quickly, and she knew she had lost quite a bit of weight. She knew she looked gaunt, her eyebrows were getting wild, and she really wanted to brush her hair. But she did not. She lay on the bed, not moving, staring at the ceiling. Or closed her eyes, trying to sleep.

She knew she had to eat. But she could not. She refused all food, afraid that someone might have laced them with chemicals. If she had Reno's nose, she might have been able to detect the chemicals, but she was only graced with vision. So she refused all food, and only drank water from the tap in her room. Thankfully that was still available.

"You. Have. A. Visitor." Said the visicom on the wall. The visicom was generally turned off, but it could be activated with a voice command, or it was automatically active when there was an incoming connection. Arien rose wearily and with effort and sat up.

"Who is it?" she asked faintly.

She had long figured out that the only people who were allowed access in this room were the orderlies and the quack scientist who came in to collect data. They were all termed "visitors", for some reason; whoever did the voice coding program must have been terrible at it, Arien thought wryly.

"Orderly. Number. Twenty. Seven. And. Orderly. Number. Fourteen." The orderlies had no names in this building. They were referred by numbers.

"Let them in."

She lay on her bed, closed her eyes. She could care less what the orderlies did. She was surprised nobody touched her except Dr Quack, but she assumed this was because they had heard terrible things about her, or the mako radiation. Oh well. She heard the door panel sliding; she had tried to get out that way before, but alarms went off as soon as the door sensors felt someone escaping. Evidently the room kept track of how many people were in the room at all times.

"Arien?"

She opened her eyes cautiously. Nobody called her by that name, not in this building anyway. She opened her eyes, blinked, shut her eyes again, opened them again, confused.

"Zen?"

"You're not hallucinating, if that's what you're wondering. It's me." He sat gingerly on the bed. "We've come to rescue you."

"We?" She echoed.

"Hi."

Hearing her own voice, Arien opened her eyes again in an alarm. In front of her stood her sister. Her eyebrows were just as wild as hers, which made her curious, because Reniel as she remembered was very fastidious about how she looked. What was going on?

Reniel was her sister – younger twin, to be exact – and Arien had not seen her since she was eighteen. She was not particularly fond of her sister, and she had a good reason; Reniel was as conniving as any woman could get, in that catty, bitchy way. Reno was conniving, but he was pretty straightforward; he only connived for gains. Reniel connived for emotional desires. Which drove her insane. Everything she had, Reniel wanted, tried to steal it, and when she could not, she threw a temper tantrum. It started with a small brown rock when she was two and continued until she joined the Intelligence. She had severed all ties with her then, refusing to take calls or even acknowledge she even existed.

Arien frowned. Reniel would not help her. So what was her motive?

Reniel looked close enough to her; she looked about as gaunt as Arien did. The hair was about the right length. Arien glanced at Zen, while Reniel was taking off her clothes.

"Exchange the clothes, quick," Zen whispered. "This place has an armada of spy equipment. I've rigged the one in the toilet to do an hour loop. Hurry."

Arien did not argue; she got up and disappeared into the bathroom after Reniel. Her survival instincts were too honed to refuse this kind of an offer. She might live outside these walls; she'd definitely die within it. And that, Reno had taught her, was something she should avoid at all costs.

Leaving Reniel in the bed, the two left. They walked quietly and with easy gait, although Arien wondered if she would make it. She should have eaten, but she was too afraid to do so. And now her body was paying for it, cell by cell. Fatigue was already claiming her.

They managed to get out without stirring uprising. After all, two orderlies walking around the complex was nothing new.

"What am I going to do once I get out?" Arien asked lamely when they got out of the building. Zen, who was shrugging off the orderly's uniform, looked at her.

"You'll take up your life where Reniel left off."

"I'm going to be Reniel…?"

"For now. Here. Take these." Zen handed her the two pistols, which she grasped lovingly. "Reniel lives in Sector 2. I'll get you there."

Arien nodded lamely. There was nothing else to do. If she had showed up as herself, they would just try to kidnap her again. Knowing what her sister would try to do, she mentally bade farewell to the redhead. She may never see him again; or, in better words, he'd never see _her_ again, not as herself. The car sped away, carrying Zen and a woman without an identity.


	22. 21: Never Gonna Fall in Love Again

Umm... I don't know what happened, but I forgot about this story until now (I turned 22 today). Maybe it was Eric Carmen I was listening to. Maybe it was my boyfriend calling me on my birthday. Maybe I just was just in a coma. Whatever.

Echo - haha, I think you're one of the very few people still reading this. But hey, if there's one person in this world waiting for updates, I'll write. This story's sort of a bildungsroman for both Reno and Arien, who had tried to cut out humane parts of themselves to survive as a Turk.

OrangeMc - I'm not sure if I gave you the link. If I did not, apologies (and please ask me again). I think it's an interesting contrast to read the two stories side by side, since it has matured a bit and I think it's rather obvious.

Smile - Why, thank you! I write, partly because I can't direct filmmaking, and partly because I just have a lot of stuff in my head that I can't keep in there forever. This story, in particular, is always getting written as my boyfriend and I grow in our relationship. So it's almost writing about myself.

The title of this chapter belongs to Eric Carmen, who wrote the amazing song.

* * *

Chapter 21: Never Gonna Fall in Love Again

Renaldo Miller, age twenty-seven, was currently in a bar. Technically, he was supposed to be at home; it was after work hours, and usually he would have gone straight home. Arien would have been in the kitchen, or perhaps at this hour they would be eating take-out. Or perhaps in bed.

But she wasn't here, and that pained him. So he said goodbye to his apartment, and said hello to the bar. Mev said nothing; he was used to Reno's erratic visits and fits of drinking.

"Yo, Mev. Hit me."

Mev sighed, unscrewed the cap and poured the amber liquid into his glass. Reno was slumped on the counter, staring into the glass. This was weird. Usually Reno drank fast and hard, and then said something inane and fell onto the floor. This Reno was pensive, as if he was trying to decide, or trying to think.

"Need to talk, Reno?"

Reno looked up, and shrugged. "Not much to talk about."

_Oh sure._ That sounded almost as truthful as a Turk could sound. Mev tried again. "Where's Arien?"

Reno's eyes flashed a dangerous blue, but the light was gone before Mev could register it. "Not here."

"Fight with her?"

"Nah."

Mev gave up. Then Reno said, "Say, what would you do if your girlfriend was locked up?"

"Locked up for what?" Mev asked back.

"Let's just say that some asswipe kidnapped her and locked her up. No good reason."

Mev was not surprised. Midgar was filled with kidnappings and murders, and people rarely paid attention. Not with the Turks lurking around; they were infamous in certain networks as the worst kind of killers ever. The rumour had it that most of them were psychopaths who were given the license to kill and a handgun. People disappeared overnight; the citizens just generally lived quietly and unobtrusively.

The Turks operated on "Don't ask, don't tell" policy; that is, you don't ask, we won't tell. So Mev was surprised that Reno let it slip.

"Is it Arien?"

Reno nodded.

"Well…" Mev started wiping the glasses. "If I could, I'd rescue her. And then…" he looked at the redhead. Reno's eyes were eerily green under the yellow light, with feline alertness like a cat.

The sun was setting, slowly, in brilliant red, almost as red as Reno's hair. Reno continued sitting in the bar, alone, downing glass after glass, as if alcohol would numb his mental pain. Mev said nothing; he had never seen this Reno before, not even when his first serious girlfriend left him. Yet here he was now, his eyes hollow. Mev remembered that there had been an incident with Delara and Reno. Was this the continuation of it?

Mev shook his head. It couldn't be that. Reno would not sit idly in a bar that he frequented, visiting the bottom of a whiskey bottle, if it was anything like that. It must be something else.

Reno opened his eyes. It was sunny mid-afternoon, and he kept seeing things. The Junonese sea, rainbow waterfalls, sunny liquid dreams. Her dark hair, spreading in the water. Her smile. He had to get to her, but he had no idea how. Arien had literally disappeared off the face of the city. No one had seen her since that day.

Nobody had told him that falling in love was this painful. He now admitted it; he was in love with her, loved her, and he rued the day he met her. He was turning into a veritable "milksop", as he called them, and that irritated him. He was above this kind of shit. He was a Turk.

So why did it hurt like hell?

* * *

Reela was just leaving her cubicle from the office when the infamous Renaldo Miller passed by to head to the elevator. For a second she wondered what he was doing on the 43rd floor, then realised that he must have made a stop at the coffee stand on the floor. The coffee shop imported beans from Corel, and roasted themselves; they prided on the craftsmanship of good coffee. Sure enough, he had a paper cup in his hand.

He was passing her by, and she could not help staring. He looked so dangerously attractive, so charming; his face had a crooked grin on the lips, as if he was promising to mess her up beyond the point of return in bed. She could not help the desires stir in her body, and trembled as his arm lightly brushed hers as they got into the elevator. His aquamarine eyes were oddly pensive as he looked toward her direction, as if he was telling her that he wasn't corrupt by choice, but he was looking for someone to save him from his heart of evil. Yet his mouth curled into an evil smile, as it if had a mind of its own. Reela imagined him naked, on top of her, her legs spread, his face filled with passion and lust for her. She gasped.

Reno, almost startled at her gasp, looked at her, then finally realised that this woman was staring at him. He cast a sideway glance at her. "Like what you see?" He asked slyly.

"You're Reno, aren't you?" She stammered. Why was he talking to her? She had seen him before, had shared elevators, but never before had he deigned to talk to her. And where was his girlfriend, the ever-present raven-headed bitch (it wasn't as if Reela knew Arien personally, but every one of her friends called her a bitch, even said that Arien had blackmailed Reno into going steady with her)?

If this was Arien or Rude or Tseng, they would have noticed that something was off with Reno. Reno had a policy of "accept comers and don't go after goers"; he very rarely pursued any woman, particularly because it caused emotional attachment and grand old fuss in the end. Arien was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. They would have also noticed a slightly eerie look in his eyes, and would have knocked him unconscious (Rude), back away slowly (Arien), or lock him into the nearest room (Tseng). Unfortunately, Reela was none of them, and did not notice the predatory look in Reno's face.

"Wanna go out for a drink?" he asked. Anything to take his mind off her was welcome. Even if it meant another woman. He watched her as she nodded shyly, and remembered another woman with cold eyes and a slight sneer. This girl was so much more malleable, easier to control.

Easier to get and easier to throw out.

After the sex, Reno threw her out rather unceremoniously, not caring that Reela was in tears and was half-naked as she ran out the door. Throwing his naked body onto the bed, he punched the pillow next to his head. Evidently sex was not the answer. What was he to do? Drinking did not work. Neither did sex.

He reached over for the bottle of pills, and unscrewed the cap. Without any concern, he shook out a few, and swallowed it whole. Hell, he needed someone… someone who understood what the relationship was like, what it meant for him to lose her, that he was her counterpart just as she was his, and to lose one was to lose half of one's self. Ivy would have understood, but he felt a trifle awkward ringing up his maybe-dead girlfriend's best friend and pouring his heart out. Besides, he didn't really want to go whining to a girl. That left…

Reno dialled 2, then hit call. The call connected after a few rings. Reno spoke a few words into the silence.

* * *

When Rude came into Reno's bedroom, he found the redhead sprawled onto the bed, his face half-buried in the sheets that had clearly not been changed for a while. Rude's nose caught a whiff of Arien's fragrance under a very strong fruity vanilla that indicated Reno had just slept with someone. That, and the dead giveaway was that Reno was butt naked – at least waist and above – with a hurt, empty look in his eyes.

"There isn't any point," Reno said morosely. "Things can't still be right."

Rude sat gingerly in an armchair after removing what looked like Reno's discarded clothes onto the floor. Reno rolled over, looking up at the ceiling.

"I'm never gonna fall in love again," the redhead said in an unusually bitter tone. Rude looked at him; he had figured Reno would brush off the incident and move on, like he had done with any other relationship. Evidently not this one. Sure, Delara had been a scar, but still, that did not make Reno say "I'm never gonna fall in love again", or have this empty look in his eyes. This was extremely unlike him.

"What if you meet someone again?" Rude asked quietly. Reno shook his head.

"I don't wanna start with someone new," he replied. "I don't think I can handle it ending again. It just hurts remembering what it used to be like."

Rude looked at him again. Reno, sentimental? What was the world coming to? But then he saw the big hurt in Reno's eyes that did not show anywhere else. This time, the pain had been too great, the anguish too much, for him to handle, and Reno did not understand what to do with the pain, and so he toyed with it, wiggled it like a sore tooth, only to realise that Arien was gone, perhaps gone forever.

"I loved her," Reno said quietly. Rude nearly jumped. But Reno's tone was almost reminiscent, as if he knew that love was done and gone. "I loved her, Rude. I thought it's kind of impossible, but I loved her."

Rude thought he saw a tear in the corner of the aquamarine eyes.

* * *

Arien did see Reno, just not as herself.

She had resumed working as an office secretary, since evidently that was what Reniel did as a living. It was one of the lower floors, and it did not take much for Arien to masquerade as her sister. Playing coy was a bit difficult, but thankfully the executive she worked for was a happily married man. Jeremy was thankfully a trustworthy man; she had seen him on the way down to the lunch room, and Jeremy had realised who she was from the way walked. But Jeremy had agreed to keep his mouth shut without asking questions. So she continued on with her life, trying to convince herself that this was for the best and there was no other choice.

Arien had seen Reno as she had walked out the lobby to get home. Reno had walked out with a girl, obviously his entertainment for the night. Arien turned away quickly to make sure Reno would not notice her… or perhaps to make sure no one see her tear. She realised then that the romance was over. Reno had moved on. So should she. Their lives had once entwined as one, but now the strands had unravelled, stretching out to different directions. She knew this would happen; it was not news. But actually getting the fact shoved into her face hurt.

It was nearly Yule. Arien went home, bracing herself against the cold, feeling tears again and fighting it all throughout the train ride. She was all alone; that mental agony froze her heart to the core, gripping it and not letting her go. She could not bear to even remember her times with Reno, for it pained her far too much. She had nothing to comfort her.

Arien wasn't too certain why exactly she was supposed to continue living. Even if the identity called Arien DeVir was allowed to return home, that identity now belonged to Reniel, not her. It was Reniel's stage now; Reno would love her, cherish her, welcome her back, while she, Arien, would live alone; for she refused to fall in love again. She did not want to feel the pain of remembering how it used to be, to give her heart and then get that crushed, to go through a glorious summer and then live through what seemed to be an eternal winter. She did not want anyone else in her life. Love hurt, but this was killing her slowly.

She watched the scenery fly past the window, and as the Yule decorations, sparse as they were still early in the season, began to twinkle in the darkness, she felt warm tears stream down her cheeks. The tears continued to flow, as if trying to wash away her pain in her heart.


	23. 22: Life, Life, Quite Contrary

Update!

Thanks to all the reviewers and subscribers! Your input's very much appreciated. This novel's halting to a screeching stop at the moment (Reno's refusing to move as I tell him to and he's turning into a milksop), so any input's soul's food for me. He's starting to overlap with a character from Neverwinter Nights 2.

Anyway...

Chapter 21

Life, Life, Quite Contrary

* * *

After a few weeks, it was rather obvious to everyone that Reno was disintegrating.

It was not so obvious at first; and in fact, it probably would not have been obvious to anyone but those who knew Reno quite intimately. There were only three people who knew Reno intimately enough to have noticed his slow unraveling: Tseng, who was getting worried, Rude, who was starting to feel very disturbed, and Arien, who was currently missing. After a day of concern and Reno nearly killing a poor janitor in a fit of rage, Tseng ordered Reno to at least leave the apartment for now and move into Rude's flat. This was nothing new for the bald partner, as they used to live together before Reno moved out. Rude simply cleaned off the coach and designated that as Reno's bed.

And it was for this reason that Reno woke up on lovely, wintery Sunday morning on Rude's floor, apparently having fallen off the coach. He sneezed – Rude needed to vacuum this place – and then saw the sun smiling onto the world. For a moment he felt murderous at the sun for seeming so cheery. Everything annoyed him these days. And boozing wasn't helping.

Reno sat up, stretched, and sauntered into the kitchen in a T shirt and sweats. Rude was up, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee. "Morning Reno," the man said gruffly, but Reno could admit that this was about as warm a courtesy the man could offer. Rude rarely said a word if he could help it, let alone two. It was quite a concession on his side.

"…" Reno hooked a foot onto the leg of a chair, and pulled it out. He was absently fingering a chain around his neck; out of whimsy, Reno had bought Arien a ring and a matching one for himself a while ago. It was not an expensive one and he certainly could have bought better, but the stone on it reminded him of her eyes and he had bought it without thinking. Surprisingly, Arien seemed to be very pleased with the gift, not because it was a piece of jewelry – she rarely wore more than a pair of earrings – but because he, Reno had picked it out for her. The ring he had given her was gone along with the rest of her, but he had kept his ring attached onto a chain. Recently he had gotten into a habit of toying it whenever he could, as if he could find her warmth through the cold stone and metal. He had taken not much else from the apartment; he could not bear to mar the soft presence she had created in their abode. The entire flat smelled of her; there were her clothes in the wardrobe, the CDs she listened to, the couch they sat on so many times as they relaxed, the shoes she wore. Everything was part of her, and he could not dare move it without feeling that he was ending her. He now understood her anguish as she threw his things away when he went missing. But she knew – or thought she knew – that he would never come back. He did not even have that comfort.

He hated waiting. He never was good at it. But he could do nothing.

Reno sat, slumped, wishing he had not woken up. Rude continued reading the newspaper. A few minutes passed in silence when the phone rang. It rang once, then twice, then thrice, and Reno looked up, now wishing he had a gun so he could shoot that thing off. Rude, noticing Reno's irritation, reached over and answered. "Rude."

He listened for a few seconds, then handed the phone to the redhead. "It's for you."

Reno, not really in the mood for politeness, received the phone and snapped a terse "what".

"Hello, this is Frederick Billings from the Midgar Memorial. Am I speaking to Mr Renaldo Miller?"

"Get on with it," Reno said irritably.

"We have a young lady, Ms Arien DeVir-"

"WHAT?"

"-Ms Arien DeVir was found injured, and she has been in our care for the past two weeks. She had been unconscious until today, but we are calling you now as you are the emergency contact she gave us. Am I correct in contacting you regarding her welfare?"

Reno nearly shot out of the chair. Rude looked at him.

"Uh, yeah," he stammered. "How is she?"

"She was in critical condition, but she is stable now. She will be released to your care within a few days, unless we can get someone else. Is that alright?"

"Uh, yeah." Reno could not stop but grin. The past few weeks' anguish was for nothing, but he did not care. Arien was alive; maybe not well, but alive. And that was all he needed. That was all he had wanted. He was no longer listening to the man on the other side of the line; all he could hear was her voice, calling his name, beckoning him.

What he should have realized was that Midgar Memorial Hospital was directly linked to Doctor Hojo and the scientific research department.

* * *

'Arien' was waiting for him in the waiting area when he went to pick her up on Thursday. Her hair was bobbed, for which Reno mourned for a few moments, and she seemed a little thinner, but otherwise she looked no different from the time she had been abducted. Her eyes had a different shade, but that may have been due to the lighting. Whatever.

"Hey, babe," he said, unable to control his smile on his face. "Ready to go home?"

'Arien' nodded. Reno thought nothing of it; she had just come out of a traumatizing experience, and perhaps she needed a little space. She remained silent throughout the ride back home, and barely said anything even when they arrived at the apartment, but Reno attributed all to the abduction.

If Reno had stopped to think, he would have realized that Arien would have dusted off an abduction incident and behaved normally; she was a Turk, after all, and it was necessary for a Turk to be unperturbed by such occurrences. If Reno had paid more attention to the woman in the apartment rather than the fact that she was in the apartment, he would have noticed that her gesticulation was slightly off, and she did not have the intense gaze that Arien had.

If, if, if…

* * *

"Domestic felicity, my ass."

It was a few weeks after Arien was notified that her sister had returned to what now was her home. Ivy had insisted on visiting her, despite her (and Zen's) protests; Zen's logic was that if Ivy was seen visiting, people would realize that the occupant of 23D 34th Avenue, Sector 2 was not Reniel DeVir but her sister, Arien DeVir, who had close ties with Ivy. Arien's argument was that it was too dangerous for Ivy to act out of the norm just now. Ivy persuaded that if she disguised herself and hid from the agents, Arien would be fine, and she used the same reasoning to Arien. And when Ivy set her mind onto something, there was no changing it.

Arien had looked glum, and so Ivy had asked why; the young woman had explained that she had received reports of her sister and Reno living in "domestic felicity", and although she should be happy for her ex-boyfriend, she really couldn't be, and she hated herself for that. When Ivy heard it, she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Domestic felicity, my ass."

Arien's eyes widened; Ivy very rarely swore, and certainly not like this. "Why d'you say that?"

"Arien, dear, I know your sister-"

"How?"

"I hang out with the office girls, remember?" Ivy reminded Arien gently. "I know that the upper classes of the Intelligence don't as a rule, but I do. Otherwise I'd only have three or four girlfriends in the entire building, and it's lonely to eat lunch by yourself."

"Alright."

"As I was saying…" Ivy nibbled on a biscuit. "I know your sister, Arien. And you know, you're all tough and cruel and cold-hearted on the outside, but really, you aren't. You're kind, loyal, and trustworthy, you just don't like showing it. But Reniel…" She shook her head. "She's very nice on the façade, amicable, even, but deep inside she's a cutthroat who'd use others to get ahead."

"That's going a bit far."

"Oh, come now. That's exactly what she did to you, and you're her own sister! Her twin!" Ivy gazed at her best friend, who sat on the sofa opposite her. "And no, she doesn't love Reno."

"I fail to see why she hatched this plan to be with him, then." Arien sounded bitter.

"Well, you know, being with Reno is going up the social ladder for those girls…" Ivy had to stop, as Arien had accidentally dropped the teacup she was holding. Her eyes were wide, and her eyebrows had shot up so high they nearly disappeared into the hairline.

"Being with who's doing what to who?"

"Arien, this may come as a surprise to you, since you're his coworker, but Reno's sort of the bad boy that shows up in romance novels. Rich, handsome, bad, with just the right about of boyishness to tickle motherly tendencies. I'm fairly sure that most of the office girls who sleep with him thinks that they can somehow set him on the right path."

"No one can set Reno on the right path, because there is no right path for Reno. He just does as he pleases."

"Yes, well, you know that, but they don't."

All of a sudden, things made sense to her. Before, she had no idea why the secretaries were so nasty and catty to her since she had started dating the redhead; now she surmised that she was viewed as the evil hag who had seduced the bad boy who was, in fact, a good boy in the inside and had helped him further along the path of corruption. She snorted. If anything, the roles were reversed. Reno had taught her how to deal with drug cartels and kick a man in the groin while the judge wasn't looking.

Eeegh.

After Ivy had gone, Arien sat on the sofa, finishing her tea. Like a good Turk, Arien tried to shrug off the throbbing pain that was called Reno. She missed him terribly; not just the superficial parts of him, but the fact that he could always grin and say, "Hey, I'll take care of it", or pat her head and say, "it ain't so bad". Reno wasn't an optimist – not by a long measure – but he was more capable than she was, and he was stronger, and could lead her when she felt lost and panicky. He was one of the very few men who could lead her and make her compliant. She realized that, because she was so socially dominant, she needed to be the submissive in the relationship. Darren could do it; Reno was another. Possibly Rufus could, but with Rufus she felt she had to tiptoe to achieve an perfect image of herself. And that was tiring indeed.

Arien rubbed her temples tiredly. There was nothing to do; why was it that when she had no time whatsoever, she had all the money in the world and the freedom to go anywhere, and now that she did have time, she had neither funds nor the freedom to enjoy? Stretching out on the sofa, she yawned, and decided to give up thinking and sleep. She really could do nothing about the current situation. Life was being contrary.


	24. 23: Falling

New semester started, so things got a bit crazy. For those who asked, yes, I still have the old copy, but I need to reformat them into a PDF, so I'll have them by mid-October... probably.

The chapter's inspired by all the songs about heartbreaks out there. Not my favourite genre but my own heartbreak isn't something I want to remember in minute details, so... yeah. Good luck to Arien :P

23: Falling

* * *

Time, evidently, was cruel.

Or not. Maybe time was a blessing. Arien wasn't entirely sure. She heard things about the Turks, how Tseng had been injured, how they all went to Wutai for a holiday. She had ceased to care at this point. If the course of events was already set like the notes to music and time was the performer, then she wished someone would have stopped the player from moving forward through the melody. But time had numbed the pain. Or perhaps it was the small things of the day-to-day life. She didn't even see him anymore; a flash of red no longer sent her heart fluttering with a curious grasp. She no longer felt his touch on her body at night, and his image – his voice, his sneer, his aquamarine eyes that flashed like a cat's – were fading, like an old photograph left for far too long in the sun.

Thinking hurt too much. She tried to ignore that Reno had been a central facet to her life before the incident. She was often successful. Constant pain could be ignored. Regret could be disregarded. This was about self-control and adapting to new environment. She was good at the former, and she hoped she was good at the latter. She had adapted to the situation rather well, and so far, no one had seemed to notice that the girl working as one of the secretaries was actually supposed to be working couple dozen floors above. The man she was working for had noticed that the handwriting was neater, letters more promptly replied, and that things were just working out much better in general, but he congratulated himself, not her. And that suited her perfectly.

It was Monday morning, and Arien had just gotten off the elevator when one of the office girls chirped a cheery "good morning!" and then sidled up to her. "Did you hear about your sister?"

"Huh?" She took off her coat, which was a bit too big for her; she had lost some weight, but she had a suspicion that her twin was actually a size or two larger than she was. It was a yellow monstrous thing that seriously made her question her twin's fashion sense. It was behaving as a dirt attractant and she was having a hard time keeping it yellow. It also smelled strongly of amber and musk, reminding her of all the CEO's wives that drove her crazy when she had been on the upper floor. Her nose recognized it as a very popular perfume, and it made her wonder if her sister was wearing it now. And how Reno was tolerating it. The redhead's extra-sensitive nose could be more of a burden than a gift, and he often forgot to use his nasal spray. Natural fragrances, used sparingly on linens, could be tolerated, but that was about it.

"Reno got bored with that bitch!" the girl said with glee. "Or something. Lyna saw him walking with Christine, you know, from floor 30 yesterday. I knew he knew better than to be with that frigid slut."

Arien raised an eyebrow. The girl prattled on.

"I never got why he decided to go out with her anyway. I mean, no offense, Ren, but she's like a man, you know? And she has a stick up her ass. And she's boring." The girl paused. "Maybe she was a complete bore in bed too. I mean, why Christine?"

Why indeed? Arien considered herself fairly knowledgeable when it came to the redhead. He wasn't the type to cheat. Womaniser, yes, with more vices than virtues, but Reno never cheated. He knew better than to do it; she had asked him once, and he had simply shrugged and said, "not worth it."

So why now? She was curious, but she reminded herself that she and Reno were over. No more thinking about him, and that meant no more wondering what he was doing, or why, or how, or any of those questions that unavoidably popped up. She might reapply to the Intelligence again – that way, she'd actually know what she was doing, as opposed to just pretending, which was a much harder job – and then she can work her way up to AA again. Her friends in the Intelligence could be trusted to keep their mouths shut.

These thoughts should have given some cheer to her, or at least a boost of energy now that she knew where she was going, or what she was going to do. She was like that; once the course was set, she generally glided smoothly, with very little accidents.

So why did she still feel numb?

* * *

A few floors above, in the stairwell between floor sixty-two and sixty-three, two people were sitting next to each other.

"We have to tell him," Ivy said to her boyfriend. He stared at her.

"Tell who?"

"Reno? Rufus? I don't know!" Her silver hair shook as she spoke. "We can't leave her like this, Zen. She denies it, but this separation's killing her."

"Arien?!"

"You don't know her, do you?" The woman demanded. "She loves him, Zen. She gave her all to him, and it's been ripped away. She's pretty much a walking zombie."

"That doesn't sound healthy…"

"Since when was either of them healthy?"

"Good point." He pursed his lips. "Does Reno know?"

"Know what?"

"That Arien…" He paused, not sure on how to go on. But Ivy understood anyway.

"He knows."

"How do you know?" Zen asked.

Ivy did not know how to answer. She knew the exact moment when she knew that she could at least trust the redhead with his sincerity with her friend. She had demanded to know the answer then, and Reno had not been able to answer either, but he did tell her when he had begun to have interest in her, and why.

"She just tries so damn hard," Reno had said, drinking a glass of soda – he was going on a patrol that afternoon so he decided not to drink – and twirling an unlit cigarette in his hand. "Everything she does, she just gives her all. It's like, she thinks no one cares about her, so she at least needs to have a worthwhile function. It'd be nice if she gave her all to me."

"That's it?"

"No." Reno had taken a drink. "You know… Elena cries and laughs whenever she wants to, and most of the girls I've known are like that. Arie… well, she kind of bottles it up."

"Kind of?!"

Reno had laughed. "Alright, she really bottles it up. But sometimes, she just, well, can't control it anymore." A pregnant pause. "I saw her cry."

Arien?! Crying?!

"Oh, I think she thought no one was watching." Reno had noticed her bewildered expression. "But her office is next to mine, you know, and our offices do share a wall and a door. You can see inside each other's offices." He grinned. "She needs someone she can cry to. So it's give and take."

Reno had known that Arien would give her all to him, if she decided to do it. And without knowing, Reno had given himself, as well. The determined, hard-eyed woman had changed the redhead, had taught him to love someone other than himself.

How ironic it was, that Arien, who had never dared trust any man before, had been taught to trust a man by the very type she had feared and hated. If any god existed, it was a cruel sort of a joke.

"I can't tell you," Ivy said finally. That moment was inexplicable; no words would sound convincing enough. But she knew from the bottom of her heart that Reno had loved her, still loved her, for all her weaknesses and strengths. And Arien loved him too; over the few months, Ivy had seen her lose weight, which was a testament to just how much the woman was suffering. Arien hadn't been large to begin with, with her tall and thin frame, but this was starting to look a bit painful.

"I've lost muscle mass, Ivy," Arien had said when she had gone to visit the flat.

"Are you eating okay?"

Arien paused. "Not really," she admitted. "When I was living with him… I had to cook for him, and he'd want breakfast and dinner. But now?" A shrug. "I can live without breakfast. I miss lunch when I'm pressed. And I'm far too tired to cook dinner."

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Tired?"

"It's deskwork, Ives. Hours and hours of deskwork. I haven't done that much paperwork since I left the Academy."

Ivy told her boyfriend this, and Zen nodded. "Did you know Reno lost weight?"

"He has?"

"I saw his physical. I was waiting for mine." The annual Shinra physical was mandatory for all Intelligence officers and Turks. "I don't think he's eating right."

"Reniel can't cook."

"That'd explain it. He seems to be drinking a lot more, though."

"Well, Arien did pay more attention to healthy eating." And a lot of other things. When Reno had been with Arien, his shirt had been ironed, his shoes dirt-free. He had still been slovenly, but he was at least clean, if nothing else. He had seemed genuinely happy being with her, more relaxed and less defensive of himself. And she had laughed more, at his antics but also with him.

What had transpired between them that had made them snare each other? In the beginning, Arien had despised Reno like a plague, feared him for his masculinity and his clear lack of interest in hiding the baser instincts in men. Sex was something that threatened to destroy her, and Reno had been the symbol of it more than anything else. She hated his lack of organization, his lack of care. And he had thought her to be an uptight prude and a bore, the kind that would become an old spinster and whack the children with a broom. Had it been Reno who had seduced the icy maiden, or had she inadvertently seduced him with her aloofness?

Either way, this separation was asking for disaster. If they had been regular office workers, Ivy may not have worried so much. But Reno had a tendency to go postal and Arien's singlemindedness was not stable either. Ivy realized that the Turks were pretty much walking, living, and breathing weapons, and Reno was an assault rifle with a faulty trigger. It would work on good days, but soon enough Shinra Company would be having very bad days. This needed to stop.

But how?

* * *

Reno was tired. Both physically and emotionally exhausted. And he knew it. Something had happened to Arien, something irreparable, so much so that he could not believe that she was the same woman. Sure, she looked the same, but there were subtle differences that amounted to something large. The way she cocked her head, the way she laughed… everything was slightly off, like clockwork that had one too many tooth on each cog.

Work wasn't going well either. Cloud and Co. were being serious headaches, clearly determined to pummel whatever was in their way. And that obstacle usually was him. He really did not fancy getting into another fight with them – that Tifa girl could really pack a punch – and so he had left the job to a robot and had come back.

That wasn't the only reason. Tseng was badly injured after coming back from the Temple of the Ancients and was pretty much on his deathbed. Elena, who had been promoted – Arien was in no shape to make a comeback, her shooting was way off her usual marks – wasn't really useful. Which had left viable Turks members to just two, as opposed to a four and a junior that usually comprised the roster.

He missed the old Arien. Something was off; it wasn't just in the way she reacted to him in bed, but in everything. Before she would have been complaining that he'd leave his shirt on the floor, or that he won't rinse out the mug, or that he left hair in the tub. But none of that, now. As the result, the apartment was starting to look like his own before it got trashed; he didn't like cleaning, but he did like clean rooms.

"Reno."

He raised his head from the desk. The office was even more of a mess than usual, which told his partner of his mental disarray. There were spare clips on the floor, an EMR forgotten under stacks of magazines, an ashtray full of stubs, a tumbler filled with only god knew what, a box of pens scattered on the ground, a discarded pair of trousers, memorandum printed out turned into a coaster… when Arien was herself, Reno's room had been less of a mess. At least she would have collected the trousers, and he had smoked less. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he still had that haunted look as if he was a small child who had lost his greatest treasure.

"What?" he mumbled.

"New assignment."

He sighed.

"The WEAPON sunk Gelnika. We have to go retrieve the cargo."

"… fine. Whatever." Reno shook his head and stood up. "Let's go get this over with."

Rude looked at him.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm just tired, mate. The recent days have been hectic, ya know."

Rude did know, and he knew that wasn't the reason for this… off-ness, but kept his mouth shut. There wasn't anything he could do, is there?

* * *

Arien woke up, gasping. She sat up and flung the duvet away as it clung to her body like Reno's arms. Tears streamed down her cheeks, drop by drop. She clutched her head. It was about to split open. She felt like the walls were crumbling down, panel by panel, about her. And it was then that she learned the truth.

She had loved Reno. All this time. All this denial, all her hatred had just been a reverse of her affections for him. And now that was gone; her sister had not only taken him away from her, but she had also broken her heart. And that was why she had felt so numb and empty. She had opened her heart and someone had left a gaping wound that will continue bleeding until the day she'd die. She was shattering, shattering, and nothing would cushion her fall.

Tears continued to fall, and for the first time in many years, Arien cried, as if the tears would wash the wound away clean so that it'd heal. In her sister's bed, she wept, for losing someone she had loved all along without knowing, knowing that she'd see him and would have to pretend that she was no one to him and he to her. To see him smile at someone else, see his hands on someone else, to hear him call someone else's name. She could actually feel her heart breaking, piece by piece, like a shattered mirror that would fall and then crash into thousand more pieces. How did anyone live through this?

Heartbreaks were wrongly named. Worldbreak would be more apt of a name, since that was happening; her world was shattering, shattering, into million pieces and she wasn't sure if she could rebuild it, or even if she wanted to. Could she live with the knowledge that he'd always be within an arm's reach, one touch away from the truth, and would never be next to her again? Could she pick the pieces up and rebuild her world, piece by piece, gluing them back together until it regained the semblance of her days before Reno came in and ripped her heart away?

Unable to sit up any longer, she crashed back into the bed without his scent, and wept for a long time into the pillow, wanting his caress more than anything and knowing she'll never know it again. She breathed in, gasping for air and for sustenance, but none came. She suddenly wished her body to dissipate into a mist so that she won't have to feel this gaping wound. She was used to pain, but this was unbearable.

Could she rebuild her castle?


	25. 24: Yuletide

... can't believe I let this fester for this long. I've been away (obviously), due to several personal problems (breaking up, getting back with an ex, modelling job getting hectic, getting sick, yadda yadda). I'm not even sure if there's anyone reading this! But I'll continue anyway. The story of these two have to finish. Sometime (soon). I have a couple of side-projects going on as well.

23: Yuletide

* * *

Yuletide.

It was supposed to be a happy time for everybody, with bells in the air, smell of cloves and cinnamon, snow falling, lovers walking, families celebrating. And for the most part, it was for the Midgarians, Even the Turks got the day off, so that meant no assassinations – well, not from the Shinra's side, anyway. Carolers went around, singing, and people were hurrying through the sludge and the snow, eager to get home.

Except for a few.

Arien DeVir was in the office on Yuletide. Nobody had demanded it of her, but she could not stay in the cold, foreign apartment and watch Yuletide shows on the television. Her boss had invited her over, but she had smiled and had shaken her head no. Yule was family time, and she had no right to intrude, even if offered.

Her "friends" did not invite her to any parties, for a simple reason that she rarely talked to them nowadays. She was too different from them, and just as in high school their talks were foreign for her, like reading a different language. And so, naturally, they took distance from her and she them. She was well aware of it, but paid no attention to it; it didn't really concern her that they were treating her as an outsider. This had been her life all through her school days, this constant ostracising, and she automatically got into that mode, when you stop listening to your peers and their chitchat becomes a constant drone.

Her superior had started noticing a marked change in the work performance. With her, things were tidier, more on time; correspondence were neatly filed, labelled; and things got streamlined far more efficiently, so much so that he was starting to trust her with more and more work. Hence, Arien had no shortage of things to do, and that was what she was doing on this Yuletide, alone in the office.

A knock on the door. "It's open," she said loudly, slumped across the desk. It was lunch time, but the cafeteria was closed, and she was debating whether it was worth going out and getting lunch. Her eyes were dry from all the staring at the screen she had been doing. She also had cramps from her period, and she doubted she could actually make it out and back. She might just have to starve.

The door creaked open. "There you are," said a voice like velvet. Arien looked up.

"What on earth are you doing here?!"

"It's Yuletide, and I called you at your apartment, and nobody picked up. I figured you'd be here." Ivy slipped in, her silver hair like a halo around her head. "Why are you working?"

Arien shrugged. "At least I have something to do."

Ivy was secretly concerned by the dead expression on her friend's face. Her hair was getting longer again, but her cheekbones were sharper, her jawline more angular. "Have you eaten?"

Shake of head.

"I thought so. I brought you lunch." Ivy shut the door behind her, then locked it with a flick of a thumb. She promptly sat in the chair in front of the desk while Arien cleared the surface, then began unpacking the lunch.

It was a regular Yuletide menu, with roasted meat, stuffings, fruit, and little pies. Two bottles of wine. As Ivy unpacked, Arien sat dumbly, motionless, in front of her desk.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Zen or your family?" she asked finally, her voice quiet.

"And leave you all alone? Are you mad?" Ivy gazed into her friend's blue-grey eyes. They were quiet, devoid of expression, like the calm before the storm. She would have smiled at this before, her face would have lit up… but now, she remained impassive, as if she had a solid wall around herself that allowed no one to enter. Ivy realised just how much Reno had meant for her, and just how much he had completed her friend's world; and with that torn away, she was no longer complete, like a circuit board that only had half the equipment. She was running, but just barely.

"You're stupid," Arien said derisively, and Ivy started. Never had she used this tone to anyone before. "You could have been seen, Ivy. You shouldn't have done this."

Ivy was stung a little. It was true that what she had said was hurtful, but it also pained her to see her friend so deadened. It was terrifying to see those dead eyes, her expressionless face, her lips without a smile. Was Arien this robotic before? Ivy wondered; with Reno, there was a sense of vividness about her, a dash of colour in an otherwise black and white painting, as if Reno could cajole and entice emotional reactions out of her without her even noticing. And perhaps that had been the case; when Reno had been around, Arien smiled more, laughed more, and her anger was much more noticeable. Reno's lackadaisical, carefree nature had coerced her to relax, and his strength as a whole – his ability to adapt, think outside the box, and act – had told her that she didn't need to be the man all the time. But with that gone, Arien had defensively gone back to 'wearing the trousers', and that meant goodbye to emotions. At least for her. She staunchly believed that emotions got in the way of making good decisions, and had a tendency to ignore that side of her as if it never existed.

"Arien…"

She turned her face, her expression like a ragged wound. In her bitterness, Arien had become exquisite, that grief the final touch that gave her mien a polish. But in that polish, she had lost the last bit of what had made her mortal. Flaw was what made humans human, and Arien had lost it.

"I know you're hurting," Ivy said softly. "You can tell me. I can't do anything, but I can at least listen."

Arien shook her head.

"Arie…"

Arien shook her head. "I can't," she said in a choked voice. "I can't, Ivy. If I let go, I'll…" pause. "I'll crack. And if I crack…"

_I'll fall apart._

"What's wrong with cracking?" Ivy asked. "You're human, Arien. What's wrong with messing up or letting go once in a while?"

"Ivy…"

"I know you think you need to keep it together all the time," Ivy said softly. "But you don't, Arie. I'm here to catch you if you fall."

And with that, Arien finally let her tears flow, and it flowed copiously. For her lost innocence, for her lost self, she cried, the phantom pain finally becoming real. And watching her friend weep, Ivy thought that this was what Arien had needed to build herself anew, to wash her wounds and to let it heal. Pain would someday fade, wounds would heal. But only if Arien allowed it.

The woman turned into a girl as she wept, her dark hair cascading about her. "You loved him," Ivy said quietly. An observation, not a question.

Arien looked up, her eyes still filled with tears. "And now he's gone," she choked. "If he was dead… oh Ivy…"

If he had been dead, she would seal that part of her life and walk on; but Reno was very much alive and well, and worked in the same building, and Ivy guessed that it pained Arien to even just breathe, for every breath reminded her that there might be a portion of Reno's breath in the air she took in with every inhale. With Darren, it had not been that serious; but Arien had gone much far with the redhead, had learned how to love a man as a woman. Renaldo Miller had left a permanent imprint on her. How could Ivy demand that Arien let go of it now?

Arien was hugging herself. "Ivy…" she said, her voice cracking. "I feel alone. So alone."

"Arien."

"I've been alone, and I was fine with it before, but now I can't remember how to cope." She said. "I see something and I remember him, would think that he might like it, and then I realise that he's gone. I make something to eat and would remember that he liked the dish. I can't cut him out. I can't!" She gasped for breath. "I know I'm being a fool. I know. But I keep getting reminded that he'll never smile at me again, or call my name, and it's killing me. If I could just block his memories out…"

Memories. They were the very foundations of a relationship. To want to let them go… Ivy realised that this was no ordinary pain of a broken-hearted girl. Arien had allowed him to move into her heart, to take residence there, expand his space, only to have it ripped away, then have it shoved under her nose. Every single day. And she bore the pain with gritted teeth.

What would Reno say?

Ivy wondered. Reno and Arien had a difficult relationship, one that was constantly at war within themselves and with each other. One was terrified of betrayal and kept a tight guard, the other was desperate to break through, all the while fighting a war within themselves, always questioning whether it was worth it, whether if anything they did was _right_. Their relationship had stepped out of ordinary bounds between a man and a woman and had taken a turn for something more drastic. Zen had heard Reno say, after seeing Arien with Jeremy, that once was enough; second time he may kill her.

"That wasn't a joke, Ivy," Zen had said. "In Reno's head, she's either his or no one's. I can't imagine Arien liking that."

Ivy had smiled then; she knew her friend a bit better than to agree. Arien, while fighting fiercely for her independence, had a streak of self-destructive romanticism that yearned to be destroyed by the hands of the very person she loved. The silver-haired woman had a gut feeling Arien would happily die if Reno had gone mad in jealousy and killed her. It sounded a bit unhealthy, but Arien's outlook on relationships weren't very normal to begin with. Arien had never said it, but Ivy guessed that this happened in their bedroom, with Arien completely surrendering her control, and Reno driving her to a breaking point. It wasn't just regular sex, but something more emotional and mental. She also had a gut feeling that _this_ was why Reno had a particular fixation on her. They really were the two sides of a same coin, in the end.

Ivy sighed. This had to be resolved soon; otherwise Arien would go insane. This much was certain; she didn't really see her bouncing back to her old self and going on about her daily duties. She'd let the wound fester and turn into a sore until it completely destroyed her. Arien was the type to bet on a single number, and therefore her loss was as big as her wins, and if this streak continued, she's completely break.

But that was for later. Ivy handed her a tissue, then told her to eat, and that Yuletide should not be spent alone by herself. Arien obeyed, her silvery eyes still raw. No amount of weeping would fix this. Reno would start missing that Arien soon enough – Reniel could never be her sister – and then both of them would be in for deep hurt. Arien was a bit more predictable; Reno was not.

They had to do something.


End file.
